Note: This post is yet another example of a reader supplementing what’s known about some person, event, or place I’ve written about. In this case, the reader directed me to the website of the Bureau of Aircraft Accidents Archives (B3A) where he astonishingly found contemporary plane crash photos of the aircraft my great-uncle Rudolf Löwenstein was traveling on when he was killed on the 22nd of August 1930 in then-Czechoslovakia.
In the recently published Post 174, I discussed the Rudolf Mosse “Annoncen-Expedition-Reklame-Büro,” the advertising expedition/agency for which my great-uncle Rudolf Löwenstein was the General Agent. I think he worked for Rudolf Mosse & Co. in Danzig [today: Gdańsk, Poland] from around 1905 until his untimely death in a plane crash on the 22nd of August 1930 in what is today the Czech Republic.
Following publication of Post 174, my friend Peter Albrecht von Preußen, sent an email with some positive words. He included a link to information about the accident. Several years ago, my “other” Peter friend, Peter Hanke, the “Wizard of Wolfsberg,” had previously found and sent me and translated news clippings from several contemporary German newspapers with accounts of the August 1930 plane accident. I erroneously assumed the new link was merely to another article. It turned out to be something much more engrossing.
This is a good moment for a brief digression to give another “shout out” to the readers of my blog. It has happened on more occasions than I can recall that readers have found and/or brought to my attention information, websites, visuals, artifacts, etc. related to people, events, and places I’ve written about. In many instances I would never have found these on my own nor knew they exist.
In the current instance, Peter Albrecht included the link to the website of the so-called Bureau of Aircraft Accidents Archives (B3A), which according to the founder of the website, Mr. Ronan Hubert, was established in 1990 for the purpose of dealing with all information related to aviation accidentology. Mr. Ronan self describes as a “Historian in aircraft accidents. Aviation accidentologist. Specialized in psychological preparedness for mass disaster and human factor.” He further writes that “The primary goal of the B3A is to collect, manage and archive all information relating to aviation accidents worldwide since 1918 till [sic] today. Therefore, its records is [sic] currently composed of thousands of documents, reports, photos, etc. representing to date more than 34,400 events.”
Astonishingly, the B3A website includes one photo of the Ford 5 aircraft (Figure 1) on which my great-uncle Rudolf was traveling on the fateful day he died, plus six contemporary photos of the crash. (Figures 2-7) The plane crashed near Jihlava, Czech Republic [German: Iglau]. Details of the plane, the year it was made, the operator of the airline, the number of crew and passengers, the number/of fatalities among the crew and passengers, the captain’s hours of flying experience, the itinerary, etc. are provided. (Figure 8)
The circumstances surrounding the plane accident are also described:
“The aircraft departed Prague-Kbely Airport at 1505LT on a flight to Bratislava with an intermediate stop in Brno. While cruising at a height of 700 metres, weather conditions worsened, and the captain decided first to reduce his altitude. Shortly later, he realized the weather conditions were becoming worse and worse with thunderstorm activity. Due to low visibility, he decided to make a 180 turn to go back to Prague. While flying at a height estimated between 15 and 20 metres in limited visibility, he saw the chimney of a brickwork and made a sharp turn to the left to avoid the collision. Doing so, the aircraft stalled and hit the roof of a farmhouse then crashed half in a garden. While a passenger (Professor Vojtěch Kraus) was seriously injured, all 12 other occupants were killed. Up to date, this accident was considered as the worst involving CSA Czech Airlines since its creation in 1923.”
The names of the crew and passengers are given.
Crew: Josef Sedlář, pilot, Josef Trafina, mechanic.
Passengers: Ing. Mirko Káš, Ing. Vojtěch Jokl, Anton Müller, Vladislaw Müller, Rudolf Vonka, Boh. Jarolímek, Ing. Bernard Eimann, Judr. Anton Hamrle, Prof. Vojtěch Kraus, Marie Rybníčková, Mr. Lowenstein.
As readers can see, my great-uncle “Mr. Lowenstein” was among the passenger fatalities.
According to the contemporary newspaper accounts, translated in Post 71, of the aircraft accident which killed Rudolf and the other passengers and crews, the impact of the plane drilling into the ground was so violent that the petrol tank exploded. The plane was enveloped in a sea of flames. Even though it was raining heavily at the time, the roof of the house into which the plane crashed also caught fire. While the fire brigade extinguished the fire, help came too late. Of the 13 passenger and crew on board, 12 were killed. While the plane’s fuselage appears to have been largely intact, the engine was completely destroyed.
Most people are not apt to have had relatives, friends, or acquaintances killed in a plane crash, but for those rare readers who have lost someone in this manner, it’s intriguing to realize that a website exists which tracks this information.
Note: In this post, I discuss my great-uncle Rudolf Löwenstein and the Rudolf Mosse “Annoncen-Expedition-Reklame-Büro,” advertising expedition or agency, for which he worked.
In an imagined account that may have taken place in my father’s life almost 95 years ago, in Post 71 I pictured the day he learned that his uncle, Rudolf Löwenstein, had died in a plane crash. (Figure 1) The date was the 22nd of August 1930, when his uncle was returning to Danzig [today: Gdańsk, Poland] in the Free City of Danzig from visiting family in then-Czechoslovakia. At the time, I’m certain my father was living with his uncle and his paternal aunt, Rudolf (1872-1930) and Hedwig Löwenstein, née Bruck (1870-1949), and likely two of their three children, while apprenticing as a dentist. My father would eventually open his own dental practice in April 1932 in a town 40km (i.e., ca. 25 miles) to the east of Danzig in Tiegenhof [today: Nowy Dwór Gdański, Poland], also located in the Free City of Danzig.
As mentioned, Rudolf and Hedwig Löwenstein had three children, the eldest, Fedor Löwenstein (1901-1946), who died in 1946 before I was born. Hedwig passed away in 1949, also before I was born. However, as a child I met Rudolf and Hedwig’s two youngest offspring, Jeanne Goff, née Löwenstein (1902-1986) and Heinz Löwenstein (1905-1979), in Nice, France. (Figure 2) If the Löwenstein surname sounds familiar to regular readers, it’s because I’ve written multiple posts about Fedor Löwenstein and his brother Heinz Löwenstein.
As a reminder, Fedor Löwenstein was an accomplished artist, 25 of whose artworks were intercepted and confiscated by the Nazis at the Port of Bordeaux in December 1940 as they were being shipped to New York: Long time readers know I’ve been engaged in a more than 10-yearlong battle with the French Ministry of Culture to recover the three surviving paintings. Heinz Löwenstein, by contrast, fought as a member of England’s Royal Pioneer Corps and was captured in the Battle of Greece in 1941, and incarcerated and escaped from German stalags no fewer than five times. His story is truly movie-worthy.
In any case, based on what I know, Jeanne and Heinz Löwenstein were the two cousins my father was closest to. (Figures 3-4) He lived with them in Danzig, then later near Jeanne and her mother in Nice, France. The fact that these are my father’s only cousins whom I met growing up supports the notion they were close. Another of my father’s first cousins lived in New York City, where I grew up. Because my father didn’t bother to tell her about my birth, she never again spoke to him. Suffice it to say, I never met her. With rare exceptions my father was not into family, a phenomenon I don’t fully comprehend.
A brief digression. I have an ancestral tree on ancestry.com with around 1,200 names. I use it to orient myself to the people I write about on my blog. Where available, I attach images or pictures of family members, though for long-ago ancestors sometimes the best I can do is find a painted rendering of them. In the case of Rudolf Löwenstein, I’ve not yet uncovered a picture of him though I remain optimistic one or more survive. The difficulty is that none of Rudolf and Hedwig’s children had children of their own so tracking down who may have inherited Löwenstein family photos and personal papers and where they may have wound up, assuming they’ve survived, is challenging.
My paternal grandfather Felix Bruck (1864-1927) and his seven siblings including Hedwig Bruck were all born in Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland], the same place as my father. Hedwig and Rudolf Löwenstein were married there in 1899. For reasons that are unclear to me their first child Fedor Löwenstein was born in 1901 in Munich, Germany. Their two younger children, however, were born in Danzig, respectively, in 1902 and 1905.
It’s safe to assume that no later than 1902, Rudolf and Hedwig Löwenstein had relocated to Danzig, presumably from Munich. However, contemporary Danzig address books first list Rudolf Löwenstein in the 1905 directory. (Figure 5) His occupation at the time was “Generalvertreter fur Rudolf Mosse und Paul Stabernack & Co., Berlin,” or General Agent for Rudolf Mosse & Co. The 1905 address book identifies this as the “Zentral-Bureau fur jederlei Reklame,” or the Central office for all kinds of advertising. Above the bolded ad Rudolf Löwenstein is identified as a “Kfm. (=Kaufman), Vertreter d.(=der) Annoncen-Expedition,” or translated literally as “merchant or businessman, agent for advertisement expedition.” Curious as to what precisely an advertisement expedition is, I investigated.
In German Wikipedia, I learned about Rudolf Mosse & Co., the company for who Rudolf Löwenstein was an agent. Rudolf Mosse (1843-1920) was a German-Jewish publisher, company founder, and businessman. He founded Rudolf Mosse Zeitungs-Annoncen-Expedition on the 1st of January 1867 in Berlin. He started by advertising his own business in advertisements but quickly went from being a mere intermediary to being a provider of advertising space, which he sold to advertisers. As one of the first publishers, he accomplished this by leasing entire advertising pages from several newspapers. This was a highly successful business model, so much so that five years after he founded his company it had 250 branches in Germany and abroad. Obviously, one of these branches was in Danzig and Rudolf Löwenstein was its local General Agent.
Let me say a little more, generally, about “Annoncen-Expedition,” but more specifically about Rudolf Mosse & Co. This is also drawn from German Wikipedia (i.e., U.S. Wikipedia does not include mention of these advertising expeditions). In the 19th and first half of the 20th centuries, advertising expeditions mediated the placement of advertisements between newspapers and advertisers. This was only possible after the abolition in Prussia of the so-called “insertion obligation” on the 1st of January 1847. Prior to this date, advertisements were only allowed to be published in intelligence magazines. After the abolition of the insertion obligation, advertisements could also be placed in daily newspapers.
While Rudolf Mosse was a major player in the German advertising landscape during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, his company was not the first advertising expedition in Germany. In 1855, the first advertising expedition was founded in Altona by the Haasenstein advertising agency. Similar companies had already emerged earlier in the Anglo-American world, as well as in France. Haasenstein collected advertisements from advertising customers, sold them to newspapers and collected a commission.
In Frankfurt am Main, Berlin, and in many other cities, advertising expeditions were also founded as pure intermediaries of advertising space. Soon newspapers financed more than 50 percent of their operations by advertising, which made them attractive capital investments.
At first, the advertisements differed only slightly from the rest of the paper, forcing advertisers to find a suitable publication environment for their ads. In the decades after the founding of the German Empire in 1871, however, and amid industrialization and mass production, advertisements began to stand out and be distinctive. The advertising expeditions, above all Rudolf Mosse as mentioned above, leased the entire advertising space of some newspapers and thus went from simply being an intermediary to being a provider of advertising space. In addition, the advertising expeditions now also advised their customers on the design and placement of the advertisements.
In 1872, Rudolf Mosse founded the “Berliner Tageblatt,” followed in 1889 by the founding of the “Berliner Morgenzeitung.” Mosse purchased printers and expanded his expedition to become a newspaper publisher, thus competing with other publishers. Effectively, the advertising expeditions had grown into large media companies and were accused of favoring (their own) newspapers and influencing the content of the other publications in which ads were placed.
Between 1918 and 1929, there were fierce price wars between the advertising expeditions. Some became the objects of speculation for investors. By the mid-1920s, branches of American advertising agencies first opened in Germany, all of which operated as full-service companies. By 1932, Rudolf Mosse & Co., which had grown into the largest advertising expedition at the time, ran into financial difficulties and was acquired by a German GmbH (i.e., “Gesellschaft mit beschrankter Haftung,” a “limited liability company (LLC)” which offers limited liability to its owners and is comparable to an American LLC).
On the 12th of September 1933, the Nazis passed the Gesetz über Wirtschaftswerbung, the “1933 Commercial Advertising Act.” This created the legal basis for the establishment of an “Advertising Council of the German Economy.” This Council served to synchronize the advertising industry in the Nazi state. The advertising expeditions were de facto brought into line and were now under the control of the Ministeriums für Volksaufklärung und Propaganda, the Reich Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda.
Following Rudolf Löwenstein’s untimely death in 1930, his son Heinz took over the business although the business was still listed under his father’s name. (Figure 6) The 1933 Danzig address book list introduces a slightly different business term, namely, “Reklame-Büro,” which translates literally as “advertising agency.” As opposed to an advertising expedition, I think this was a company that created and managed advertising campaigns for other businesses, developing marketing strategies to promote products or services across media channels. In other words this was a full-service company versus one that merely helped facilitate the placement of advertisements in newspapers and elsewhere.
While Heinz Löwenstein appears to still have been the General Agent for Rudolf Mosse advertising expedition in 1933, I strongly suspect it was probably the last year he was in business. The 1933 Commercial Advertising Act would have severely limited his ability as a Jew to freely run his advertising agency. Based on an unclear reference on one of his military papers, I have reason to believe that he and his wife immigrated to Palestine ca. 1935, whereupon he joined Britain’s Royal Pioneer Corps.
There is one final thing I want to discuss regarding Heinz Löwenstein’s occupation as indicated in the 1934 Danzig address book, namely, the use of the German term “propagandist.” Like me, given the years in which Heinz operated the “Reklame-Büro. Annoncen-Expedit.” after Hitler came to power, readers might erroneously assume he was a mouthpiece for the Nazi government. “Propagandist,” in the English sense is defined as “someone who creates and spreads propaganda, which is communication used to influence or persuade an audience, often with a specific agenda or viewpoint, and may not be objective.” I can’t emphasize strongly enough how implausible it would have been for Heinz to parrot Nazi ideology, given his life history. Heinz clearly saw the handwriting on the wall and, in my opinion, departed for Palestine as soon as he was able to after Hitler came to power.
Given what I believe to be true about Heinz, I turned to German Wikipedia to understand the use of the term “propagandist” in German. A German synonym for propagandist is Verkaufsfördererung. Expectedly, the term means something very different in German, a sales promoter, who is involved “in sales promotions, namely, all temporary activities with a promotional character [that] are combined within the marketing communication policy, which serve to activate the market participants (sales bodies, dealers, customers) to increase sales results, and support other marketing measures.” Use of this term in the context of running an advertising agency makes much more sense to describe the work that Heinz Löwenstein was involved in.
This suggests one final thought. Growing up my German-born father would occasionally use a German aphorism or saying to make a point. Asked to explain, he would tell me there was no comparable saying in English. While the difference between use of “propagandist” in English versus German is not quite the same thing, it is worth bearing in mind that online translators may occasionally give you inaccurate translations so further investigation may be required.
