POST 43: HELPING A JEWISH FRIEND UNCOVER HIS GERMAN ROOTS

Note:  In this Blog post, I talk about some ancestral research I undertook at the request of a childhood friend from New York of almost 60 years, and some interesting findings we made along the way.

Related Posts:  

Post 11: Ratibor & Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel

Post 12: “State Branch of Katowice Archives Branch in Racibórz (Ratibor)”

Post 13: The Former Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor (Racibórz)

 

First, let me set the stage.

In 2014, my wife and I spent 13 weeks in Europe driving everywhere from Gdansk, a Polish city on the Baltic coast, all the way to Valencia and Barcelona, along Spain’s eastern coast, visiting places my father and his family had once lived.  Prior to our departure, we attended a lecture in Los Angeles given by Mr. Roger Lustig, sponsored by the Los Angeles Jewish Genealogical Society, on researching Jewish families of Prussian Poland, a place where many of my Hebraic ancestors come from.  Knowing we would be passing through Poland, I contacted Mr. Lustig about extant Jewish records for Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland], formerly part of Upper Silesia in Prussia, where my father and many of his immediate family were born.  Roger took an immediate interest in helping since a branch of his own family came from there.  He graciously introduced me to an English-speaking Polish lady, Ms. Malgosia Ploszaj (Figure 1), from nearby Rybnik, Poland [formerly: Rybnick, Germany], who is actively involved in researching what she calls “her Rybnik Jews” and who was enormously helpful when we met.  In Blog Post 12, I discussed how Malgosia helped me navigate the civil records at the “State Archives in Katowice Branch in Racibórz.” (Figure 2)  Archived here, we discovered an administrative  file of historic police documents from the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel (Figure 3), a family-owned establishment through three generations (see Blog Post 11), as well as vital records for family members.

 

In February 2015, many months after our visit to Racibórz, Malgosia sent me a link to an hour-long BBC video done by an English journalist, Mr. Adrian Goldberg, to commemorate the 70^th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz in January 1945.  In this video, Mr. Goldberg told his family story through home recordings he’d done with his now-deceased father who, like my own father, was Jewish and born in Ratibor.  Adrian’s father survived because his parents were able to secure a place for him on a Kindertransport (German for “children’s transport”) to the United Kingdom, although Adrian’s grandparents were murdered in Auschwitz, same as my beloved Aunt Susanne.  Malgosia provided local support to Adrian during the production of his video, which was filmed in the now-destroyed former Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor (Figure 4), subject of my Blog Post 13, a place where many of my and Adrian’s relatives were once interred.

Following the release of Adrian’s video in 2015, we had occasion to exchange a few emails to bemoan the woeful condition of the former Jewish cemetery in Ratibor, and what might be done about this.  Within just the last two months, I was contacted by Adrian’s staff in connection with an article he was working on related to obtaining a German passport, which, as the son of a German refugee, he is entitled to.  Adrian’s article on the calculation that went into deciding to do so, given his father’s refugee status and the negative reaction his father likely would have had were he still alive, has since appeared in print on BBC.com on December 24, 2018.  Adrian makes clear his decision to apply for a German passport stems not from any political or philosophical standpoint, stressing he deeply loves England.  It is more a reflection of post-Brexit realities and the greater flexibility that being an EU citizen with the right to work and travel freely across 27 countries without any visa requirements provides; that said, the idea of adopting the nationality of a country that murdered many family members was not an easy one.

 

Adrian Goldberg’s deliberations about applying for a German passport happened to coincide with a request from my childhood friend Harold from New York, whom I’ve known for almost 60 years (Figure 5), for help documenting his German roots.  He has a similar goal, obtaining German passports for he and his immediate family; as the child of Jewish refugees who fled Germany in the 1930’s, like Adrian, my friend is entitled to a German passport.  My friend’s interest in securing dual nationality is different than Adrian’s, however.  It has little to do with wanting to become an EU member but relates to the increasingly divisive political environment in our country.  My friend wants the option of legally moving himself and his family to Germany should the political landscape in America continue to deteriorate and becomes far worse than that in Germany, and not find himself in the same circumstances as many German Jews did in the 1930’s, unable to find a safe port.  Contemplating returning to a country that perpetrated the Holocaust and killed some of Harold’s ancestors is an irony not lost on either of us.

Documenting my friend’s German lineage was a straight-forward task.  However, as ancestral searches are often wont to do, it morphed into searching for my friend’s family who may have wound up in the United States or South America after they left Germany, as well as a hunt for older ancestors who were born and died in Prussia.  I’m happy to report that the forensic genealogical work has now been taken over in exceptional fashion by my friend’s daughter.

Briefly, I want to devote the remainder of this post to talking about a few discoveries and connections my friend’s daughter and I have made, along with a mystery that remains unsolved.

My friend’s uncle Paul, his father’s brother, was born in 1900 in Wiesbaden, Hesse, Germany, lived and worked in Berlin for a time, then emigrated from Germany in 1937 or 1938, arriving in New York in October 1938; this was merely a transit point, by choice or design, and he eventually alit in South America, Chile by all accounts.  My friend remembers an annual conversation that took place between his father and his uncle Paul, perhaps around one of their birthdays, but cannot otherwise recall what happened to him.  From my own personal experience, I can attest to the difficulty in finding evidence of Jewish ancestors who immigrated to South America before or after WWII; as we speak, I am trying to discover the fate of one of my father’s first cousins who lived and perhaps died in Buenos Aires, Argentina around 1948, so far to no avail.  As to Harold’s uncle, his daughter and I have so far hit a brick wall in determining his destiny.

As previously mentioned, Harold and I have known one another for almost 60 years.  Like my father, I was an active tennis player growing up.  So, in the course of discussing my friend’s family with him, we both clearly recalled one of his distant relatives who was a highly regarded tennis player when we were growing up.  My friend remembered her name, Marilyn, and because she was a ranked player for a time, we had no trouble finding information on her and even getting her phone number.  Several days later, I placed a “cold” call to Marilyn, left a message explaining who I was and that I was calling on behalf of my friend, who I thought might be related to her.  Later that day, Harold’s tennis-playing kin returned my call, and we had an eminently delightful conversation.

While I quickly receded into the background, I learned when Marilyn had been born, but equally importantly that her mother, Gisela, is still alive and of sound mind.  I passed this information along to Harold, uncertain exactly where it would lead, although excited on his behalf that he could converse with an older member of his family.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prior to contacting Marilyn, I had already found Immigration Cards for both her parents, Gisela and Ernest, her father now deceased, with attached photos showing what they looked like when they traveled to South America. (Figures 6-7)  I forwarded these to Harold, at which point he had an “aha!” moment.  He dug out his bar mitzvah album photos and began comparing Gisela and Ernest’s immigration card pictures to them.  Triumphantly, Harold discovered a picture of himself with his parents and Gisela and Ernest altogether! (Figure 8)

Harold eventually spoke by phone with Gisela in December 2018 and sent her pictures he thought were of her and her husband at his bar mitzvah; she confirmed the pictures were them.  Gisela explained that Ernest and Harold’s father had been second cousins, and that Marilyn and Harold are therefore third cousins; it’s not clear Harold ever met his third cousin growing up in New York.  Gisela and Ernest would from time to time socialize with Harold’s parents when all lived in New York but drifted apart when they became “snowbirds” in different parts of Florida.  Gisela graciously provided a family tree to Harold that has allowed Harold’s daughter to broaden her ancestral investigations.  What Gisela was unable to provide, however, were clues as to where Harold’s uncle Paul wound up.

Tangentially, Harold’s daughter and I have discovered no fewer than three Upper Silesian towns where members of our respective families once lived, Ratibor, Beuthen [today: Bytom, Poland], and Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland]; there are likely many more.  Given that some of these towns were modest in size, and the Jewish communities relatively small, it’s highly likely Harold’s family and my family intermarried, making us distant cousins.

In conclusion, let me remark on one thing.  Regular readers know my Blog is not political.  Yet, one cannot talk about Jews who were victims of National Socialism without being political and recognizing and condemning modern-day parallels.  Today’s populists who demonize and discriminate against Jews and other minorities are no different than the fascists of old.  It’s the canary in the coal mine when Americans of all stripes begin to consider moving elsewhere in the unlikely event that the political divisions in our country worsen.  It’s imperative we speak out against falsifiers and admirers of tyrants and dictators wherever and whenever they crawl out of the woodwork.