Category Archives: History

“A place for remembrance and reflection…”

Dr. Michael Lozman’s dream of a permanent Holocaust memorial in the Capital Region of New York became a reality on December 1, 2025, when Governor Kathy Hochul signed legislation establishing a New York State memorial to honor Holocaust victims and survivors. 

“With the first ever state-sponsored Holocaust Memorial, we are honoring the victims and survivors of the Holocaust while ensuring that all visitors have a place to remember and reflect on what the Jewish community has endured,” Governor Hochul stated in a press release. “New York has zero tolerance for hate of any kind, and with this memorial, we reaffirm our commitment to rooting out antisemitism and ensuring a peaceful and thriving future for all.”

Legislation S5784/A7614 directs the state Office of General Services (OGS) to oversee the design, programming, and location on the Empire State Plaza in Albany of the New York Holocaust Memorial. The memorial will join others on the Plaza that are special sites of remembrance and tribute, offering visitors the opportunity to reflect on issues that touch the core of our society.

The late Dr. Michael Lozman was an area orthodontist and a passionate advocate for Holocaust remembrance. Lozman began his quest honoring victims of the Holocaust when he turned his attention to restoring desecrated Jewish cemeteries in Eastern Europe and, in doing so, educating future generations about the atrocities of the Holocaust. Working with several US colleges, Lozman organized and led fifteen trips through 2017 that resulted in the restoration of ten cemeteries in Belarus and five cemeteries in Lithuania.

Around 2017, Lozman began his pursuit of building a Holocaust memorial in the Capital District in New York. He had forged a friendship with Roman Catholic Diocese of Albany’s Bishop Edward B. Scharfenberger, who graciously donated two acres of land for the development of a memorial in Niskayuna. The gift from the diocese for a Holocaust project was the first known collaboration, for this type of memorial, between a Jewish community and the Roman Catholic Church. In 2018, Lozman founded the Capital District Jewish Holocaust Memorial (CDJHM). The board consisted of a group of individuals from the local community, including Scott Lewendon, Jean “Buzz” Rosenthal, Dr. Robin Lozman Anderson, Tobie Lozman Schlosstein, Warren Geisler, Gay Griffith, Howard Ginsburg, Judy Linden, and Linda Rozelle Shannon. “Michael was always grateful for each member’s sacrifice and sense of duty to the project,” recalled his wife Sharon.

Lozman’s initial concept for the physical memorial met resistance as being too literal a representation. Dan Dembling, an Albany architect, and Michael Blau, a theming solutions expert located in the Capital Region, were recruited to be part of the redesign effort that involved both the CDJHM and the Jewish Federation of Northeastern New York. Many iterations later, the Town of Niskayuna approved Dembling’s design in June 2019.

The planned memorial, as envisioned by the board, consists of walls arranged in the shape of the Star of David. Visitors will be guided around the six-sided structure, where they will be connected to significant events that occurred during the Holocaust. The six columns in the center represent the six million Jews murdered in the Holocaust. Initially estimated to cost $4.5 million, the board increased its fundraising efforts, but they were slowed down by the COVID-19 pandemic. In October 2023, Lozman decided to step back and leave the board. He asked Dembling, whom Lozman considered very capable and enthusiastic, to join the board and to become its president. After careful consideration, Dembling agreed. “Michael set the groundwork for me to think big,” said Dembling in an April 2025 Zoom call. “He was excited to transition the mission to me.”

Faced with new estimates due to inflation to $6 million, the board began exploring other locations that could provide already established restrooms and parking. Dembling proposed shifting the location from Niskayuna to the Empire State Plaza. It was felt that it would provide an ideal place for students and tourists who were visiting New York’s capital city an opportunity to learn about the Shoah. To further emphasize its expanded audience, the memorial will be renamed the New York State Holocaust Memorial (NYSHM). As the official state-sponsored Holocaust memorial, it is expected to draw contributions from the estimated 1.6 million Jews and other citizens of New York.

On October 11, 2024, one year to the day when he had called Dembling to take on the presidency, Lozman died. Continuing his work, the board sought letters of support from government, religious, and private entities. Armed with over forty letters, the board approached local legislators to establish the memorial at the Empire State Plaza. Senator Patricia Fahy and Assemblywoman Gabriella Romero drafted companion bills for their respective houses. Lozman’s vision moved closer to reality when both houses passed the bills unanimously. Governor Hochul’s signature moves the project to the NYS OGS, which must work with an “organization that provides Holocaust education services and programs” to deliver the memorial. The next step in creating the New York State Holocaust Memorial is up to the NYS OGS. The new law charges OGS with selecting an organization to work with on the memorial’s final design and location on the Empire State Plaza. The CDJHM hopes that it will be that organization.

Sharon Lozman, Dr. Robin Lozman Anderson, and other members of the CDJHM board were at the signing. Sharon received the newly signed bill from Governor Hochul as a lasting reminder of her husband’s legacy.

Along with the physical memorial, the board also added components that further incorporate Lozman’s vision of education. Under the guidance of Evelyn Loeb, a longtime Holocaust educator, the CDJHM partnered with Echoes & Reflections, an international Holocaust education program, to create an innovative educational program, which will include a historical timeline of Holocaust events and NYS Holocaust survivors’ testimonies. In addition, the CDJHM will sponsor a fleet of traveling memorials that use the same online educational program and will travel the state to schools, churches, synagogues, and other community locations. Both educational programs are scheduled to launch in the first quarter of 2026.

The Jewish Federation has been one of the many organizations that has supported the work of the CDJHM. At its annual meeting on June 17, the Federation honored three of its members. Dr. Michael Lozman was posthumously awarded the President’s Award; Buzz Rosenthal was also honored with a President’s Award; and Dan Dembling was awarded the Sidney Albert Community Service Award.

In a December 1, 2025, press release, Dembling thanked the governor for her signature. “Since our organization’s founding by Dr. Michael Lozman, we have been dedicated to creating a permanent space in the Capital Region to honor the victims of the Holocaust and educate future generations. At this time when antisemitism is so high and rhetoric is reminiscent of the Nazi era, the need to remember the Holocaust is critically important. As envisioned, this memorial will have statewide impact by helping to educate people about the consequences of prejudice left unchecked and hopefully inspire New Yorkers to stand up against hate in all its forms.”

“Michael planted the seed for all of this,” said Dembling. “His unwavering commitment to honoring the past ensures that the memories of those lost will continue to inspire and educate future generations.”

The Capital District Jewish Holocaust Memorial is a 501(c)(3) not-for-profit organization and is raising funds for the permanent memorial,  traveling memorials, and educational programming. Those wishing to donate or find more information can go to their website at https://www.cdjhm.org/ or email at info@cdjhm.org.

December 01, 2025- Albany, NY- Governor Hochul signs Bill to create a New York State Holocaust Memorial during a Hanukkah Reception at the Executive Mansion (Darren McGee/ Office of Governor Kathy Hochul)

Dr. Michael Lozman

Photograph of CDJHC vision of Holocaust Memorial courtesy of Capital District Jewish Holocaust Committee, Inc. Dan Dembling, President.

Photograph of group at bill signing courtesy of the Press Office of New York State Governor Kathy Hochul. Darren McGee, photographer.

Photograph of Dr. Lozman courtesy of USCPAHA. Tina Khron, photographer. https://www.heritageabroad.gov/dvteam/dr-michael-lozman.

Witness to History: Ruth Gruber

In 2019, my husband Larry and I were browsing the shelves of Book Passages, an independent bookstore in San Francisco’s Ferry Building. Larry held up a book he had found in the history section: Haven–The Dramatic Story of 1,000 World War II Refugees and How They Came to America.

“Do you remember the exhibit at the New York State Museum regarding the only Jewish refugees brought to the United States during World War II?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I said. My mind flashed back to walking through the Albany museum’s exhibit with its pictures, displays, and sign boards depicting a group of refugees who were housed in Fort Ontario (Oswego, NY). 

“This book is a first-hand account by the woman responsible for getting the refugees to the United States—Ruth Gruber,” he explained on his way to pay for the book. 

Six years and much reading later, Larry and I agree: Ruth Gruber, American journalist, photographer, writer, humanitarian, and United States government official, is one of the most interesting people who ever lived. 

Gruber was born in 1911 in Brooklyn, the fourth of five children of Russian-Jewish immigrants. She graduated from high school at 15 years old. After earning an undergraduate degree from New York University at 18, she won a fellowship at the University of Wisconsin, where she obtained a master’s degree in German and English literature. She subsequently received her doctorate from the University of Cologne in Germany at 21, making her at the time the youngest person with a doctorate.

After returning to the United States, Gruber became a correspondent for the New York Herald. The only reporter to be allowed to travel across the Soviet Arctic, she saw firsthand how people lived there and witnessed the Siberian Gulag. 

During World War II, she worked for the Department of the Interior where, as a special assistant to U.S. Secretary Harold L. Ickes, she became its field representative in Alaska. In June 1944, she was to undertake what she later considered “the most important assignment” of her life.

Reading the Washington Post at breakfast, Gruber, then 33, learned that President Franklin D. Roosevelt had signed an executive order allowing 1,000 refugees gathered in Italy, 90% Jewish, to be admitted to the United States. After years of this country’s refusal to allow Jews to escape the Nazi horrors of World War II, this was the only government authorized attempt to bring European Jews to America under the protection of the U.S.

Rejoicing that something was finally being done, Gruber rushed into Ickes’ office to express her concern for their well-being.

“Mr. Secretary, these refugees are going to be terrified — traumatized,” Gruber recalled in a 2010 interview in the Sunday Telegraph of London. “Someone needs to fly over and hold their hand.”

“You’re right,” Ickes responded. “I’m going to send you.” The fact that she was young, Jewish, and could speak both German and Yiddish made her an ideal person for the job. Oswego was chosen as a location for housing he during World War II primarily because of the availability of Fort Ontario, a decommissioned military base, which was converted into a temporary refugee shelter.

After flying to Italy, Gruber boarded the Army troop transport USNS Henry Gibbins and greeted the refugees. “I would like … to know who you are, what kind of people you are. What you’ve gone through to survive,” she recounted in her 2000 book Haven: The Dramatic Story of 1,000 World War II Refugees and How They Came to America “You are the living witnesses.”

Throughout the two-week Atlantic crossing to the United States, Gruber proved to be a calming, empathetic listener and a communicator and advocate for the refugees who came from 18 countries. She intervened in disputes, taught English, cared for the seasick, and comforted the refugees, some who had miraculously escaped the Nazis and others who had spent time in concentration camps.

During the voyage, “Mother Ruth,” as she was often affectionately called, became a witness herself, listening to and writing down many of the refugees’ stories. “Get all the terror,” said Dr. Henry Macliach, a doctor from Yugoslavia. “We lived it. We will live with it for the rest of our lives. But you are the first one we can tell it to. Yes, write it down so the world will know.”

On Aug. 3, 1944, the ship arrived safely in New York City, and Gruber accompanied the refugees to Oswego. Initially, the site of the cold, desolate fort surrounded by barbed wire brought back memories and fears of what many had faced in Europe. Through Gruber’s guidance and the support of many others, including the residents of Oswego, government officials, and even Eleanor Roosevelt, the place became a “haven” from the ravages of war. 

“Thus I became a witness and participant,” Gruber wrote. “I experienced their joys and pain, rejoicing in their marriages and love affairs, sharing pride in their children, mourning those who died by their own hand or by acts of God.”

FDR’s initial executive order stated that the refugees were “guests” of the United States under the condition that they must return to their origin countries after the war. In late 1945, the federal government changed its mind and allowed all who wished to stay to become U.S. citizens. The final chapter of Haven lists the successes of the new U.S. citizens, who would establish careers in many fields, including medicine, technology, education, law, business, and the arts.

In recent years, New York legislators in both the U.S. House and Senate have been working to designate Fort Ontario and its associated museum, Safe Haven, as a National Historical Park. In 2018, Senator Kirsten Gillibrand (D-NY) passed a bill directing the Secretary of the Interior to conduct a special resource study, the first step in the process to designate a site as a unit of the National Park System. In 2024, the SRS was finalized and concluded that the two-acre portion of Fort Ontario representing the fort’s use as a World-War II European refugee shelter meets all necessary criteria. The bill passed the Senate but failed to become law. In February 2025, Gillibrand, Senator Charles Schumer (D-NY), and Representative Claudia Tenney (R-NY) reintroduced the bipartisan bill.

“The Holocaust Refugee Shelter at Fort Ontario was a place of safety and hope during a dark moment in history, and it deserves recognition in the National Park System,” said Senator Gillibrand. “I am proud to once again be introducing this legislation to achieve this goal and am determined to work across the aisle to get it done.”

Gruber was profoundly impacted by her participation in the refugees’ “journey out of despair and death, to hope and life and light.” Although she was born a Jew, she became a Jew. “I knew my life would forever be inextricably interlocked with Jews,” she wrote in Haven.

The rest of her life was a testament to that commitment. After World War II, she witnessed the scene at the Port of Haifa where Jewish refugees on board the ship Exodus were not allowed to enter Palestine. She then followed them to France and Germany. While on a ship off the coast of France, the refugees conducted a hunger strike. The only reporter allowed on the ship to report firsthand on the unfolding story was Ruth Gruber. Her book, Exodus 1947, became the basis for the 1960 film Exodus. She later covered Israel’s war for independence. She became Ben-Gurion’s friend and conducted a first in-person interview when he became Israel’s first president.

In 1951, Gruber married, had two children, and continued her journalistic endeavors. In 1985, at 74 years old, she visited Jewish villages in Ethiopia and chronicled the rescue of the Ethiopian Jews to Israel. Throughout her life, she chronicled her adventures through her photography, articles, and 18 books. Gruber died at 105 on November 17, 2016.

“I had two tools to fight injustice — words and images, my typewriter and my camera,” she was quoted in her New York Times obituary. “I just felt that I had to fight evil, and I’ve felt like that since I was 20 years old. And I’ve never been an observer. I have to live a story to write it.”

A typewriter. A camera. Empathy. With my iPhone camera nearby, I click away on my computer keyboard, hoping each of my stories displays the same empathy Ruth Gruber showed throughout her life. She is not only the most interesting person I’ve ever encountered. Ruth is my hero and my role model. I’m so grateful to have learned her story. 

Originally published May 11, 2025.

Tale of two survivors united by the Shoah: Jacob and Rachel Kazimierek

Two Polish Holocaust survivors from Poland. United by shared tragedies and strengthened by the love for the children they raised. Here is their story. 

Yakov “Jacob” Kazimierek was born in Mlawa, Poland, on December 10, 1926, one of the seven children of Abraham and Hannah (Granaska) Kazimierek. The family farmed and raised cattle, which they milked or slaughtered. 

After Germany’s invasion of Poland in 1939, thousands of the country’s Jews were subjected to the Nazis’ persecution, terror, and exploitation. Through the Nazi’s newly established “protective detention” orders, the Kazimierek family, along with other Jews, were moved to a Jewish ghetto. In 1942, Nazis deported the family to Treblinka. Hannah and the four youngest children were immediately sent to the gas chambers.

Physically failing under the brutal demands of forced labor, Abraham was selected for murder in the gas chamber. Another brother, Hans, eventually succumbed to disease and malnutrition.

The two surviving brothers endured years of starvation diets, forced labor, and brutal beatings.“[Jacob] had to hide his food or others would take it and he would die,” his cousin Regina Markowicz wrote in an account of his life. “He worked very hard and was treated like an animal. He slept on a wood or cement slab and endured terrible winters without adequate clothing, bedding, or shoes.” Jacob bore the physical signs of his imprisonment—scars on his back from the metal slats in his bed, one finger permanently disfigured from a beating, and of course, the tattoo number “76341,” the number tattooed on his arm—on his body—for the rest of his life.

Shortly before the liberation of Auschwitz, Jacob managed to escape. Although the exact details vary in family lore—in one scenario, he escaped on a bicycle; in another telling, he and two friends escaped posing as Germans—Jacob spent the remainder of the war hiding in forests and cellars, subsisting on food foraged in the woods, stolen, or given by kind Polish Christian. After Auschwitz was freed, Jacob was reunited with his brother Aaron, leaving them as the only two of nine members of the Kazimierek family to survive. 

Sweden, a neutral country during the war, took in about 15,000 refugees, and Jacob and Aaron were among them to be sent to a displaced person’s camp in Jönköping, Sweden. Remembering the skills learned at his family’s home in Poland, Jacob worked in a slaughterhouse. In 1948, fleeing from a girlfriend who was pressing him into getting engaged, Jacob moved to Israel and enlisted in Haganah, the Zionist paramilitary organization that fought for Israel’s independence. Four years later, he returned to Jönköping, where he met a twenty-three-year-old woman, a fellow Holocaust survivor whose story was as tragic and heartbreaking as Jacob’s. 

The only child of a Jewish couple from Poland, Rachel Abromowitz Kazimierek was born on July 6, 1929. At the age of ten, she and her family were interred in the Lodz Ghetto. At the age of 13, she and her parents were among thousands of Jews deported to the concentration camps. After arriving at Auschwitz, she never saw her parents again. Rachel was placed in Bergen Belsen and assigned to work in the Wieliczka salt mines. Each day, she and other women were herded several miles each night, working in deplorable condition underground. She was freed on April 15, 1945. Her years of forced labor would have serious impacts on her visional health. 

Jacob, newly returned from Israel, and Rachel met at a dance in the displaced person’s camp. According to their daughter Hannah Lewanowski, their match was not as much born of love as of necessity. As the United States gave preference to married refugees, the couple married in November 1952. Their first child, Hannah, was born thirteen months later. Jacob’s surviving brother, settled in Sweden, where he lived with his wife and three children until his death in 1979. 

In 1954, Jacob, Rachel, and Hannah came to the United States, first settling in New Haven, Connecticut and then relocating to Waterbury. Initially working as a butcher at Bargain Food Center, he opened his own store, Brass City Beef in 1953, which he operated, with Rachel’s help, until his retirement in 1990. 

In a March 15, 2015, article in the Hartford Courant (“Holocaust survivor built new life in Waterbury”), Jacob was praised for the store’s personal service and competitive prices. “He had a good following,” said Tony Nardella, a former Waterbury police officer and customer. “He was well liked and always had a smile and a joke.”

“He came to this country with no money,” said Hannah.“He had no English. He worked seven days a week. He made it.” The Kazimiereks developed a strong community with other Holocaust survivors. They socialized with each other, often sitting around a large table sharing schnapps and pastries while the children played together. 

Meanwhile, Rachel continued to deal with eye infections, possibly a result of working in the mines. In 1961, she had her left eye surgically removed and was fitted with a prosthetic eye. In 1966, she had a detached retina, which resulted in vision loss in her right eye. From that time on, the children were cared for by a nanny. Determined, Rachel moved on with her life, using a cane to walk. Despite her initially limited English, Rachel volunteered at the local Easter Seals to help other visually impaired individuals and visited schools to share stories of her Holocaust experiences. 

Jacob passed away in 2014. Rachel, 95, remains in the home she and Jacob originally purchased in Waterbury, Connecticut. She has 24-hour-care but still prides herself in her independence and cognitive abilities. “My brain, sweetheart, is very clear and very good,” she shared during a February 2025 interview. “I still remember birthdays and anniversaries,” she said, rattling off the important dates of her children and grandchildren. Freida Winnick, a daughter who lives near her in Connecticut, provides additional support and care.

Rachel attends monthly Holocaust survivor luncheons in West Hartford, Connecticut. She also attends presentations organized by “Voices of Hope,” a non-profit educational organization created by descendants of Holocaust survivors from across Connecticut to raise social awareness. 

Rachel emphasizes that she holds no ill will despite her harrowing past. “I am not against anyone,” she said. I get along with everybody.” 

Originally published May 15, 2025

Hate Ends Now

A seventeen-year-old’s powerful stand against hate

One million paper clips are piled high on black construction paper on the stage, lit by a spotlight. Above it, the flickering black and white film of Jews walking to their deaths in a Nazi concentration camp is being shown on a theater-sized screen. And standing in front of the stage is the seventeen-year-old Edgewater High School (EHS), Florida, senior who orchestrated this scene, along with several other exhibits that make a powerful stand against antisemitism and many hate. 

The first thing you notice about Adam Mendelsohn is his hair. Standing at six feet tall, Mendelsohn adds another two inches with his wild dark brown curls, complimented with a gray yarmulke perched in the back. As the organizer of the January 9, 2025, Hate Ends Nowcommunity event, Adam radiates a confidence and maturity that is unusual in such a young man.

The previous summer, Adam had attended a meeting of the local Jewish Student Union (JSU). Founded in 2002, the organization oversees 200 Jewish culture clubs on public high school campuses to provide Jewish teens with programs that strengthen their Jewish identity and connection to Israel. On that day, Rabbi Daniel Nabatian, the co-director of the Central Florida branch, encouraged the students to make an impact—no matter how small—to fight against the rising wave of antisemitism that had gripped the world since the Hamas attack on Israel on October 7, 2023. 

 Adam was determined to bring the JSU message to Edgewater High School students and staff. Following up on his memory of a similar exhibit, he contacted Hate Ends Now, a nonprofit whose mission is to combat hatred and indifference by educating people about the history of the Holocaust and all forms of bigotry. The organization offered not only artifacts from the Holocaust but also an exact replica of a World War Two-era cattle car that was used to transport Jews and other targeted groups to concentration and death camps. A twenty-minute, 360 degree immersive presentation offers an impactful educational experience. With the support of Dr. Alex Jackson, Edgewater’s principal, and his assistant, Valerie Lopez, Adam worked with Todd Cohn, the CEO of the nonprofit, schedule the event in Orlando for January 9, 2025. 

 Adam then started a fundraising campaign to pay for the cattle car and other expenses. Thanks to the generosity of many donors, including the Ginsberg Family Foundation and Massey Services, the seventeen-year-old raised over $30,000, enough to cover most of the expenses.

 Adam’s next step was to contact local organizations whose mission aligned with the core values of the event to sign on. Participants included the Jewish Student Union (JSU); Chabad C-Teen; Shalom Orlando, the Holocaust Memorial Resource and Education Center of Florida; the Anti-Defamation League, and Central Florida Pledge, a network of community members in Florida who stand up against discrimination and hate.

Adam now began the search for a Holocaust survivor. Jasmine Flores, the community relations manager for the Greater Orlando Massey Services, connected Adam with Ludwig (Lou) Ziemba, an 82-year-old Kissimmee resident, through her involvement in Maitland Rotary.  Ziemba was born in the Lodz Ghetto on September 9, 1942, one day before 13,000 children under ten were to be sent to an extermination camp. Arrangements were made for the infant to be hidden in a garbage truck and smuggled outside the Ghetto where a Christian Polish farmer retrieved him and took him home to be raised as his own. Miraculously, his parents survived and were able to retrieve their “hidden child” when they were freed three years later. 

The paper clip exhibit was a last-minute miraculous addition to the event. On Sunday, through a conversation with Beth Landa, Ziemba’s wife, Adam learned about Paper Clips, a documentary that highlighted the 1998 efforts of middle school students from Whitwell, Tennessee, to collect six million paper clips representing the six million Jews killed by the Nazis. According to Wikipedia, at last count, over 30 million paper clips had been received.

A preliminary research of the documentary compelled Adam to see if he could locate a low-cost source of paper clips. The manufacturing plant of Bulk Office Supplies was in Tampa, but was closed for the weekend. Undeterred, he located the name of the founder and owner of the company, Alex Minzer, on Facebook. Encouraged by Minzer’s “Never Again,” hat, Adam messaged him; Minzer answered almost immediately. Alex Minzer had sold the company to Levi Haller, who was currently in Jerusalem. Alex helped connect Adam with a wholesaler in Tampa who would provide the paper clips at cost – and later that same day Levi Haller reached out to Adam to say that decided that Bulk Office Supply would donate the 1 million paper clips, inspired as he was by the project’s mission and Adam’s passion.

Next problem: how would the paper clips get from Tampa to Edgewater in time? Fortunately, Adam’s father Jason was returning from a business trip on Florida’s west coast on Wednesday. Adam quickly did the math, his favorite subject, to confirm all the boxes would fit into his father’s car. All good! The clips were successfully delivered at one o’clock, only 28 hours before the event was scheduled to open.

Adam and a group of student volunteers began the tedious task of opening the 10,000 small boxes of 100 paper clips and piling them onto a 7X7 foot square of construction paper that had been placed on the stage in the school’s auditorium. When the school day ended at 2 pm, Adam stayed on, working alone and then with his father, until 8 pm. “When I left, I looked at the pile and despaired,” said Adam. “I had no idea how the project could be completed.” 

Adam returned to EHS the next morning at 5 am. By school opening, the whole student body was aware of the urgency to finish the job. “It was crazy!” Adam said. “Students were rotating in and out of the auditorium to provide help over the next several hours.” The pile was completed at 1 pm, twenty-four hours after the initial delivery. “I now hate paper clips,” Adam said with a laugh.

At five pm, the doors opened to the public. Over 500 people attended the three-hour event. They perused the display tables, munched sandwiches provided by Kosher Grill, listened intently to Ziemba, looked over the chilling artifacts on the Hate Ends Now tables, sat in the quiet auditorium to contemplate the million paper clips, and, at scheduled times, viewed the powerful immersive presentation in the cattle car parked just outside Edgewater’s entrance. 

Dignitaries included United States Representative Maxwell Frost, Florida State Representative Anna Eskamani, staffers sent on behalf of Senator Rick Scott and United States Representative Darren Soto, and members of the EHS school board. 

“This is an incredibly powerful experience,” said Frost. “I believe that every high school student should have the opportunity to witness the horrors of this tragic time in world history through such exhibits. This event serves as a reminder that when we lead with love, we can stop hate in all forms and make sure this type of history never repeats itself.” 

Todd Cohn also commented on Adam’s project. “It’s rare to see such a young individual take on such a meaningful project with this level of commitment,” the Hate Ends Now CEO. “He made a lasting impact not only on us but on everyone who experienced the exhibit. Adam is a shining example of how one person can make a big difference.

Ziemba found sharing his story with a large and diverse audience to be exhilarating. Despite his history, Ziemba still believes love will prevail. 

“Try to accept people,” Ziemba told Orlando’s Spectrum Cable News reporter Sasha Teman. “I know I grew up loving people, and I still love people.”

Adam is grateful to all involved in making the project a success. He also plans on sharing the message with him beyond high school “Barriers which prevent love and peace can be destroyed by understanding that we are all the same,” he said. “I plan on carrying the torch of compassion, acceptance and tolerance throughout my life.” And the one million paper clips? Plans are underway for the clips to be gathered in a lucite case with signage that will be placed in the Edgewater High School’s entrance hall. Adam’s hope to make a difference and to combat hate of all kinds will now be his lasting legacy.

Originally published January 25, 2025. Updated May 26, 2026

Those who wish to make a contribution to Hate Ends Now in honor of Adam Mendelsohn and his project, please click here. 

All photos provided courtesy of Cara Dezso

The Kindness of Strangers

For newlyweds Erwin and Selma Diwald, getting out of Austria wasn’t a choice. It was a necessity. Thankfully, the kindness of strangers saved their lives. Their daughter, Frances “Francie” Mendelsohn, shared their fascinating story. 

Erwin Diwald was born in Vienna, Austria, in 1907, to Bettina and Sigmond, who was a successful importer of the ostrich and egret feathers used in the making of hats popular at that time. Erwin attended the University of Vienna, where he earned doctorates in both history and law. He launched a successful career in law and was sought after by many Catholic clients wishing to legally annul their marriages. 

Born in 1931, Selma Gehler was the second child of Maria and Victor Gehler. Victor, an engineer, was involved in the building of the Wiener Riesenrad ferris wheel in the Prater, still considered one of Vienna’s popular tourist attractions. Selma worked in her uncle Joel’s’ pharmacy while attending the University of Vienna’s pharmacy program, intending to step into her uncle’s business after graduation. 

Selma and Erwin met at a friend’s wedding and married in October 1937. Six months later, German troops invaded Austria. On March 15, 1938, the terrified Erwin found himself caught up in the enthusiastic crowds cheering and raising hands in the Nazi salute as a triumphant Hitler paraded through the streets of Vienna. Immediately, the Jews in Austria were in the crosshairs of the new regime. 

The newlyweds knew they had to leave their native country. Their first attempt to obtain visas took them to Stuttgart, Germany. On their first evening there, Selma and Erwin ate dinner in the hotel’s restaurant. The waiter brought over a huge tureen of soup. “Compliments of the Fuhrer,” they were told. They soon learned that their hotel was the site of the city’s Nazi headquarters. They quickly returned to Vienna to explore other options to leave Austria.

Help arrived through Erwin’s younger sister. Paula Diwald had been vocal in her dislike for the new regime. When notified that the Nazis were looking for her, she hastily made arrangements for a “ski trip” in France. As soon as she crossed the border, she ditched the skis and took up residence in Paris. 

Paula worked during the day as a salesclerk in a shop selling expensive handbags. To supplement her income, she worked as a tour guide, her ability to speak seven languages a definite asset. 

One evening, Paula overheard a couple requesting a guide who could speak English. She introduced herself and spent the next several days showing the Gregorys, a wealthy Greek Orthodox couple from Chicago, the highlights of the City of Light. At the end of their visit, they asked Paula what they could do to thank her for all she had done.

“What you can do is sponsor my brother and his wife,” Paula told them. “We have absolutely no family in the United States. Your providing them with visas is the only payment I want.” They promised to see if they could make the arrangements once they returned to Chicago. 

Paula immediately contacted Erwin. His education had included years studying classical Latin and Greek, and he decided to use this knowledge to further persuade the Gregorys.He wrote a long eloquent letter in classical Greek to plead his case. 

The Gregorys may have been Greek Orthodox but had no knowledge of its language; they brought the letter to their priest. Impressed by both the Erwin’s language and moved by their plight, the priest told the Gregorys, “You have to save these people.” The Americans complied and began the process of getting visa for the couple. They enlisted the aid of Lazarus Krinsley, a Jewish lawyer in Chicago, to obtain the paperwork. 

The Diwald flew to Paris to await the paperwork that, according to the officer in charge had not come through. It was only when the Diwalds checked in on a day the regular official was not at work. His substitute immediately “found” the missing documents.“Where have you been?” He said. “These visas have been here for months.” 

Knowing that they could not bring a great deal of money into the States, the Diwalds arranged first -class passage on the Paquebot Champlain. Built in 1932 and hailed as the first modern liner, the ship was pressed into evacuee work, transporting many Jews, like the Diwalds, who were fleeing Europe. 

Erwin remained in Paris with Paula before boarding the ship in Le Havre, France on August 29, 1938. Later that day, Selma, who had gone to England to say goodbye to her family, boarded in Southhampton. On August 31, 1938, Germany invaded Poland, marking the beginning of World War II. Erwin and Selma had made their escape just in time.The ship sailed in radio silence for the remainder of the voyage.

Meanwhile, he Diwalds found themselves in the company of many celebrities. Their travel mates included actor Helen Hayes, comedian Groucho Marx, composer Samuel Barber, Italian-American composer Gian Carlo Menotti, and Austrian-American actor/director Erich von Stroheim. It made for a very memorable voyage! 

An interesting side note: According to a Wikipedia article, the Champlain continued crossing the Atlantic Ocean for the next two years, transporting refugees, including many Jews, to safety. On June 17, 1940, on what was to be its last crossing, the Champlain hit a German air-laid mine, causing it to keel over on its side and killing 12 people. . A German torpedo finished its destruction a few days later. It was one of the largest boats sunk sunk in World War II. 

After debarking the ship in New York City, Selma and Erwin traveled to Chicago to meet their benefactors. Even though the Gregorys were responsible for getting the visas, they were not very welcoming. Lazarus Krinsley the lawyer, and his wife Rose, however, warmly embraced the couple, a friendship that was maintained throughout their lives. Upon the Krinsleys’ recommendation, the Diwalds settled in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, which had a fairly large Jewish population and offered more job opportunities.

Despite his educational background, Erwin lacked the credentials to practice law in his United States, During the war, he worked on an assembly line that polished propellers for B-29 planes. and drove trucks After the war, Erwin applied for a job as a tire salesman with Dayton Tire and Rubber Company. Initially, human resources failed to recommend him, saying he was “too intelligent.” He went on to become one of their top salesmen. 

Using the skills learned in Vienna, Selma worked in a pharmacy. She considered going to UW Madison to get certified as a pharmacist. After the birth of her two daughters Ann Frances [“Francie”) and Susan Jane, however, she gave up her dreams of further education. 

The Diwalds joined to Temple Emanuel, a reform congregation. In 1954, Francie became the first bat mitzvah in the congregation, with her sister Susan following in her footsteps three years later.

Fortunately, many of Selma and Erwin’s family were able to escape the fate of the many Jews imprisoned and murdered during the Holocaust. In 1938, the Nazis stormed into the Gehler home looking for Joel. When they could not find him, they arrested Selma’s father, Victor, who was deported to Dachau. Maria, through a possible bribe, was able to free him. They immediately fled for Haifa, in what then Palestine. They both passed away in Israel in 1951, three years after it had become the State of Israel. 

Erwin’s parents had also escaped Austrian 1940 by hiking over the Alps into France.  They emigrated to Milwaukee in 1942. Joel, who had narrowly missed arrest in 1938, fled to England, where he met the love of his life, Patricia. Joel passed away in 1986; Patricia passed in 2022. 

Selma died in 1996 at the age of 83 from cancer. Erwin died in 2008 at the age of 101, suffering from dementia in his last years. Despite all that the family had endured, Francie said that her parents were never bitter or angry. “I feel as if I been touched by God,” Erwin told his children. “We survived.”

SOURCES

Thanks to Francine Mendelsohn for sharing her parents’ story. 

“SS Champlain.” Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SS_Champlain

Gestapo Apples: Denmark’s resistance during the Holocaust

As I continue to interview Holocaust survivors and their families, I have written the story below based on information supplied by the son of one of the innumerable Danes who, who with his father, helped rescue Jews in World War II. Marilyn

Much has been written about Righteous Gentiles, the men and women who risked their lives to help save the Jews in Europe during the Holocaust. One of the most successful rescues happened in Denmark, where Danish authority and innumerable private citizens worked with Jewish community leaders to rescue thousands of their fellow citizens from certain death. 

Although the Nazis had occupied Denmark in 1939, initially there had been an uneasy peace. The Germans regarded the blond, blue-eyed Danes as “fellow Aryans.” With only 7500 Jews living in the Scandinavian country, the Nazis had not even required the Jews to wear yellow stars. 

As the war progressed and Allied victory was in sight, however, the Danes’ initial limited resistance had progressed to massive labor strikes and sabotage. On August 29, 1943, the day after the Danish government had resigned rather than help the Germans arrest and try members of the Resistance, the country was under martial law.

 A week later, the Danish government learned through German officials who feared the political ramifications of such an action that all of Denmark’s Jews, the 6000 citizens and 1500 refugees, were to face the same fate as millions of others in occupied Europe: On October 1, they were to be rounded up and sent to almost certain death in Nazi concentration camps. The Danes immediately began a massive operation to save their Jewish neighbors, hiding them in their homes until they could be spirited out of Denmark to Sweden in fishing boats. 

For Dr. Eric Erslev,the Danish rescue of the Jews came close to home in a story orally passed down by his father Allan Jacob Erslev to him and Eric’s son Brett.

Although Aage Erslev was Christian, he had been married to Anita, a Jew who had passed away in June 1943. In late September, he had welcomed Anita’s relatives in his home, hiding them as they awaited word that the fishing boat was ready for departure. 

Late one evening, he and his 18-year-old son Allan were awakened to the sound of Gestapo pounding on his front door. The oldest wearing a captain’s insignia, was flanked by two much younger men.

The Kapitän announced that they were there to arrest Anita Erslev. When Aage told him that she had passed away, the Nazi, having heard this excuse many times. demanded proof.

Aage began searching his desk for the death certificate. Meanwhile, the two younger soldiers were ordered to start searching the house. Aage’s attempt to find the paper became even more frantic when the two soldiers, having finished their search of the first floor, stomped up the stairs to the second floor. where the Jewish relatives were hiding under the bed and in the closet of one of the bedrooms. Frantically, Aage whipped through the papers as he heard the soldiers’ footsteps in bedroom over his head. He knew if the Gestapo found the fugitives, they would be killed and the father and son would be jailed. At that moment, Aage found the death certificate. The German, now satisfied, yelled to his two charges to come downstairs. 

 As the soldiers were leaving, Aage offered the soldiers apples from the bowl of fruit on the table. They grabbed the fruit and walked out. 

As soon as the two men could no longer hear the boots on the street outside their home, they went upstairs. The relatives, who were seconds from being discovered, told their rescuers how they heard the sounds of the soldiers’ breathing and saw their boots from their hiding places, one under the bed and one in the closet. They all knew if the more experienced captain had been conducting the search, they would have been found. Thankfully, the refugees did make it to the boats and found safety in Sweden. 

Allan was surprised that his father had given the Nazis the apples: These were the men who would have killed his mother and her relatives and were responsible for the death of untold others. As the son of a Jewish mother, he and others with “impure blood” were targeted by the Germans later during the occupation Allan went into hiding but survived the war.  Maybe Agee, overcome with relief, that the Nazis had not found the hidden Jews, impulsively offered them the fruit. Maybe, despite the horrors of war, the Dane’s generous nature prompted him to share food with the enemy? The question remains lost to history.

In the conversation he had years later with Eric and Brett, Allan said he never forgot that moment and the terrible years of the German occupation of his homeland. Of the approximately 7500 Jews living in Denmark in September 1943, only 120 Danish Jews died during the Holocaust, either in the Theresienstadt concentration camp or during the flight from Denmark. According to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, this relatively small number represents one of the highest Jewish survival rates for any German-occupied European country.

Photo: Danish rescue boat as displayed at Unitied States Holocaust Memorial and Museum, This particular example was used in the earliest operations for the evacuation of Danish jews organized by the Hilsingor Sew club know as the Kiaer Line. This boat carried 12 to 14 Jewish refugees on each trip to neutral Sweden. (USHMM; photo curtasy of Wikimedia Commons.)

SOURCES:

Thanks to Dr. Eric Erslev , professor emeritus, Warner College of Natural Resources, Colorado State University, for allowing me to share his family’s story.

https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/denmark

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Denmark_in_World_War_II

A survivor’s story: “I live every day as a blessed person.”

On May 5, 2024, our community’s Shalom Club held its annual Holocaust Remembrance, or Yom Ha’Shoah, event. Lou Ziemba’s story was one of the highlights of a moving, unforgettable evening.

Born  in wartime Poland, Ludwig“Lou” Ziemba is  a retired successful businessman, a polyglot a descendent of “Jewish  royalty’” and a Holocaust survivor. 

Lou’s story begins in Poland. Rabbi Menachem Ziemba, was the chief rabbi of Warsaw, a renowned holy figure in the Ger sect of the Chassidic movement, and a key player in the 1943 Warsaw Ghetto Uprising through his pleas that urged inhabitants to fight against their captors. 

“In the present we are faced by an arch foe, whose unparalleled ruthlessness and total annihilation purposes know no bounds,” Rabbi Ziemba told the Warsaw Ghetto inhabitants. “Halachah [Jewish law] demands that we fight and resist to the very end with unequaled determination and valor for the sake of Sanctification of the Divine Name.”

One of Rabbi Ziemba’s nephews was Henoch, son of his brother Moshe. Henoch was a bit of a non-conformist intellectual who spoke several languages and wandered around Europe. Henoch married a woman who was not approved of by his Chassidic family and thus he was no longer recognized by his large family in Warsaw.

As the Nazis rose to power, Henoch experienced both his wife and children being executed by the Nazis. Grief-stricken, Henoch returned to Poland and settled in the industrial city of Lodz, the second largest Jewish community in prewar Poland, after Warsaw.

With the outbreak of World War II and the German invasion of Poland, the life of Polish Jews deteriorated through a series of draconian laws imposed by the Nazis. In February 1940, after even more severe anti-Jewish measures were instituted, the Germans established a Jewish ghetto, initially trapping 164,000 Jews into a few city streets in a neglected northeastern section of Lodz. The widower Henoch Ziemba was one of those people. 

Soon after his arrival in the Lodz Ghetto, Henoch met and married 20-year-old Golda Farber, almost two decades his junior. Golda may have been small in stature, but she was, in Lou’s words “a firecracker” and “a force of nature.” Almost immediately, Golda became pregnant. For reasons lost in the family lore, Golda turned for help to Mordechai Chaim Rumkowski, who Primo Levi later wrote “morally ambiguous and self-deluded.”

To organize the local population and maintain order, the German authorities established a Judenrat,” or Jewish Council in the ghetto. The Germans appointed Rumkowski as the “kapo” of the Lodz Ghetto, whose job it was to oversee the day-to-day living as well as to decide who would live and who would die. Rumkowski was responsible for sending untold numbers to their deaths.

Known mockingly as “King Chaim”, Rumkowski was granted unprecedented powers. Rumkowski transformed the ghetto into an industrial hub for the Nazis, producing uniforms, wood and metalwork, and electric equipment. Rumkowski felt that, as long as the ghetto served a purpose by supporting the Nazi effort, the workers would avoid deportation to the gas chambers. His methods, however, were brutal: He oversaw the slave labor of anyone over 12 years old to work 12-hour days despite abysmal living conditions and near-starvation rations.

In his biography of Rumkowski, Yehuda Leib Gerst described this complex man. “Toward his fellow Jews, he was an incomparable tyrant who behaved just like a Führer and cast deathly terror to anyone who dared to oppose his lowly ways. Toward the perpetrators, however, he was as tender as a lamb and there was no limit to his base submission to all their demands, even if their purpose was to wipe us out totally.”

Furthermore, Rumkowski used his position to his own benefit. He singled out his political enemies for death and deportation to the death camps, and also deported those who had the capacity to rise up against their capturers. In contrast, those whom he favored were showered with extra provisions, medicine, rations, and safety.

For reasons lost to history, one of those receiving his benevolence was Golda Ziemba. With Rumkowski’s help, Golda was able to hide her pregnancy. A son, Ludwig, was born on September 9, 1942. 

 In late summer, Rumkowski was given orders to select 24,000 for deportation. Believing that the inhabitants’ survival depended upon their employment, he made the decision to hand over their 13,000 children under ten and their 11,000 elderly over 65 years old. He addressed the parents of Łódź as follows. “In my old age, I must stretch out my hands and beg: Brothers and sisters! Hand them over to me! Fathers and mothers: Give me your children!”

Again, for unknown reasons, Rumkowski worked with the Ziembas to save their infant son. He and Golda arranged for baby Ludwig to be hidden in a garbage truck. Once outside the Ghetto, he would immediately taken by a Polish farmer, whose family would raise him as their own in their Christian home. “It’s a miracle,” said Lou. “There were very, very few children who survived the Lodz Ghetto.”

As the war continued, conditions in the ghetto deteriorated, marked by a growing number of inhabitants being sent to the extermination camps. By summer 1944, as the Soviets came closer, the Nazis rounded up every remaining Jew they could find, including Rumkowski and his family, for mass extermination in Auschwitz’s gas chambers.Before their deaths, however, a group of Jews beat Rumkowski to death, a fitting ending for a man who many Jews regarded as bad as Hitler and his Reich. 

On January 19, 1945, the Soviets liberated the Lodz Ghetto. Over the course of last four previous years, over 220,000 had people passed through its gates. There were only 877 survivors, including Golda and Henoch Ziemba, who had managed to hide during all the deportations.

Golda and Henoch’s first stop after liberation was to reunite with their now three-year-old. son. Ludwig didn’t recognize or understand the emaciated but overjoyed strangers who spoke in Yiddish. Despite the Polish family’s reluctance to give up their “son,” his biological parents -against all odds- had returned. 

The Ziembas were the only three members of the family to survive. Rabbi Menachem Ziemba and the four hundred members of the family who had been trapped in the Warsaw Ghetto were all murdered by the Nazis.

Relocated to a German Displaced Persons camp, the Ziembas were soon a family of four. Lou’s sister Esther was born while Lou was away recovering from tuberculous in a German convent, where he learned his third language, German. 

So, to summarize Lou’s first 8 years of life, Lou was born a Jew during a period of extermination, hidden by a resourceful mother, taught Polish by a non-Jewish Polish family, taught German by nuns in a convent, recovered from TB, and taught Yiddish and right from wrong by his parents in a German DP camp. He never had to go to school, get circumcised, or even brush his teeth the entire time.

After a five year wait, the Ziembas immigrated to New York City in 1950. By the time he was nine years old, now known as “Lou,” was working alongside his mother at her small women’s shop in the Bronx that sold undergarments. His bar mitzvah was held in 1955, thus learning yet another language—Hebrew. Before Lou could be Bar Mitzvah’d, however,  there was one order of business that had to be taken care of at the local hospital, “a small snip of the tip.” Lou was heard screaming from every floor of the hospital “I DON’T WANNA BE A JEW!!!

When he was twenty-one, Lou opened a men’s clothing store down the street from his mother’s shop. As his business grew, in part because of Slax and Jax’s inventory of the newly popularly “blue jeans,” he convinced his mother to sell her store and join him in business. They soon opened three more stores.

However, as shopping malls sprang up, Lou realized the negative effect on his businesses. He sold them and went into the home construction business.  He, his wife Maxine (“Cookie”) Noble and their two children moved to “New City,” an affluent suburb of New York City. 

In 1999, the long years of his dedication to work took a toll on his marriage, and the couple divorced. Soon after, Lou met and married Beth Landa who happened to be related to his son-in-law. After the couple’s retirement in 2015, they moved to Florida, settling in Solivita, a fifty-plus active adult community in Kissimmee in 2023. 

“I’m aware of how lucky I am to be alive,” Lou says. “I live every day as if I’m a blessed person. I enjoy life too much not to do that.” 

Sources

Thanks to Lou Ziemba and Beth Landa for providing the interviews and information for this article. 

Cousins, Jill. “A Survivor’s Saga.” Lake Mary [Florida] Life.Winter 2017.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chaim_Rumkowski

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Łódź_Ghetto

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Menachem_Ziemba

https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/lodz

As a Jew, I fear what is happening in Florida

“Have money set aside and have flesh on your bones.”

This was the advice given to a friend who grew up as the daughter of Holocaust survivors. Her parents instilled in her and her brother the need for hyper-vigilance in case the unthinkable happened again. The couple’s circle of friends, fellow survivors of Nazi Germany, expanded the advice to include a ready passport and a warm coat in which money and jewels were sewn into the lining. 

Since 2015, I have been researching and writing stories about Holocaust victims as told by themselves or their children. Each story relives in me the sacrifice, the terror, and the strength shown by the targets of Hitler’s Final Solution. And it comes down to this: Although they comprised a mere 1.7% of the population of Europe when Hitler came to power in 1933, over six million men, women, and children were murdered for the crime of being Jewish. 

Hitler’s campaign against the Jews didn’t start with guns and ghettos and gas ovens. It started in 1933 with words: slow building propaganda effort to denigrate Jews, their accomplishments, and achievements. Those words were reinforced with images: distorted drawings of Jews as controlling octopi, fat bankers, and Christ killers. Words and images morphed into book bans and book burning. These actions grew into increasingly more restrictive laws regarding where Jews could work, shop, seek medical attention, and live. By November 10 , 1938, Kristallnacht, “Night of the Broken Glass,” Jews had neither rights nor means to escape. Trapped, two-thirds of Europe’s Jewry were murdered by bullets, beatings, starvation, or the gas chamber. 

Unfortunately, the lessons of the Holocaust has done little to end Jew hatred. According to the Anti-Defamation League, antisemitic incidents in Florida have doubled since 2020, with 269 incidents of assault, harassment, and vandalism reported. This rise has been seen across the United States and the world. In a recent interview with Steven Colbert, Stephen Spielberg commented, “Not since Germany in the ’30s have I witnessed antisemitism, no longer lurking but standing proud with hands on hips like Hitler and Mussolini — kind of daring us to defy it. I’ve never experienced this in my entire life. Especially in this country.” 

On June 10, 2023, neo-Nazis had held a rally not far from the gates of Disney World, in which they waved posters with swastikas, Nazi flags, the Florida state flag and posters supporting Ron DeSantis, the governor of Florida. While other Florida leaders across party lines immediately stepped up to condemn the actions, DeSantis has yet to comment. As noted in an article in the 6/12/2023 Tallahassee Democrat, “While the governor has been quick to tout his pro-Israel support and legislation, his office has in the past been slower to weigh in on public antisemitic displays.”

Books and course work pertaining to the Holocaust have been caught up in Florida’s legislators fight against “woke” education. History of the Holocaust, an on-line course, and Modern Genocide were rejectedfor including topics on social justice and critical race theory. A third book was allowed after “politically charged language” was removed. 

As a result of complaints from parents in Martin County, Florida, Jodi Picoult’s The Story Teller, a novel about a friendship between a former Nazi SS officer and the granddaughter of an Auschwitz survivor, was taken off the district’s shelves for “sexually graphic scenes, including depictions of sexual assault by Nazi guards. Picoult, a bestselling author who saw 19 more of her books targeted by anti-woke advocates denounced the move. “Books bridge divides between people, said Picoult. “Book bans create them”

Florida’s current climate comes chillingly too close to what happened in Nazi Germany. Despite the fact that transgender people make up approximately 1% of the nation’s population, the Republican legislators in Tallahassee have passed bills restricting transgenders from using public bathroom, denying them gender affirming medical treatment and drugs, and limiting the rights of parents of transgender children. In response to Tallahassee’s attempts “to erase Black history and restrict diversity, equity, and inclusion programs in Florida schools.” the NAACP justifiably issued a travel advisory to African Americans, people of color and LGBTQ+ individuals

Since 2021, DeSantis and the Republican legislature have passed bills that, as reported in a 4/23/2023 Washington Post article, will give us an idea what “Make Florida America” would look like under a DeSantis presidency. Restrict third-party registration groups, which have long been in the forefront of signing up Black and other minority voters. Eliminate campus diversity programs. Prohibit state and local governments from making investments based on environmental, societal and governance (ESI) benchmarks. Ban abortions after six weeks, Expand “Don’t Say Gay” to include all grades (K-12) in public schools. Make it easier to sue news media for defamation and win. Make it harder to sue insurance companies. Allow gun owners to carry concealed weapons without permit or proof of training. Allow DeSantis to run for president without resigning the governorship and without having to disclose his travel records while campaigning around the country.

Florida residents have a choice. We can leave, finding a place—hopefully that does not require passport and a warm coat that conceals valuables—that is more accepting. Or we can stay and fight with our words and our images and our vote. Thomas Kennedy, a Florida activist, stated in a 6/27/2023 Miami Herald article that the current far-right climate may serve as a motivation for change. “If we don’t at least check these….far-right figures that are starting to create a laboratory for extremist policies in Florida,” said Kennedy, “the Florida of today could become the America of tomorrow.” Remember this as we celebrate our country’s birth and look ahead to our country’s future.

First published in the Capital Region’s Jewish World, a bi-weekly publication.

A Survivor’s Tale: Dutch Nathan

Anne Frank, born on June 12, 1929, was the celebrated diarist who described her life while hiding with her family from the Nazis in an Amsterdam, Holland attic. After capture and deportation, she died in the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in late winter 1945.The following story, first published in 2018, tells the story of another Jewish child who hid with his family in Holland during World War II and survived to share his story.

Anne Frank is one of the most well known figures from the Holocaust. But she and her family were not the only ones to go into hiding to avoid capture by the Nazis and their collaborators. While some Jews lived in the open with changed identities, others, like the Franks physically hid to avoid certain deportation and almost certain death. Dutch Nathan and his family were one of many who relied on others to help them. 

Gert “Dutch” Nathan was born on January 5, 1932, in Duren, Germany, the second son of Wilhelm (“Willy”)  and Hilde (nee  Friesem) Nathan. Willy had a cattle hauling business which extended throughout Europe. He did not have a formal education, but he was street smart—Dutch remembers that his father could “outcalculate a calculator.” The Nathans lived a mostly secular life in Germany, with observation of major Jewish holidays and his mothers’ lighting of Shabbat candles.

In 1938, after Hitler’s rise, the family moved sixty miles west to Valkenburg, The Netherlands. “Holland had proclaimed neutrality when war broke out in September 1939, as they had done in World I,” said Dutch, “so my father thought our family would be safe.”Willy took a job with the De Valk bus company, a former competitor, where he continued his cattle business.

On May 10, 1940, Hitler’s forces invaded the self-proclaimed “neutral” country. Five days later, after the bombing of Rotterdam, the Dutch forces surrendered. By 1942, the situation began to deteriorate for fellow Jews. Willy made the following arrangements with his friend, Johan Kengen, a member of the Dutch Underground:  If the Nathans were in danger of deportment. Willy would pay for the family to stay in the home of  Kengen’s fiancé’s aunt and uncle  for “a few days” until the Nathans could be spirited away to England. Willy also made arrangements for neighbors to move most of the furniture and bedding to the house next door. Whether the neighbors were paid or volunteered as an anti-Nazi action still remains a mystery to Dutch. 

The plan was put into effect a few month later. While walking from the bus station into the De Valk building, Willy was stopped by a friend and fellow employee:  Germans were waiting for him to arrest him and deport him and his family to the concentration camp.

Father quickly stole a bike and peddled the ten miles home. Dutch and his older brother Fredo were instructed to leave their house one hour apart to walk the two  miles to a house “located on the right hand side just before the road crossed the railroad tracks” with a warning to “not speak to a soul.” Willy and Hilde arrived later that evening, expecting to hear soon from the Underground of their clandestine trip to England. 

Unfortunately, the days turned into week, and the Nathans were still in hiding. Other people, including downed pilots, had priority in the Underground escape plan. To further cover the facts of extra activity in the “safe house,” an elaborate ruse was planned. Johan and the elderly couple’s niece Ann quickly arranged their wedding. At the reception, Johan picked a huge fight with Ann’s parents, who resolved that they would have no contact with the couple until Johan apologized. The newlyweds moved into the house by the railroad tracks, bringing the number to eight. 

As weeks turned into months, tensions grew. The Nathan’s spent most of their time in a small main floor bedroom. Ann was prone to hysterical outbursts, and Willy and Johan would have to physically restrain her to keep her from running outside and giving their situation away. Meanwhile, Hilde was anguishing over the fact that she had not been able bring her parents with them. She was haunted by their deaths in the concentration camp for the rest of her life.

Johan’s government job determining the number of animals that farmers could slaughtered provided a means to get extra meat and milk, but food was still scarce. Dutch and Fredo, 10 and 12 respectively, spent most of their days quietly reading books and avoiding the shaded windows so no shadows would be seen.

Along with possible discovery, the occupants lived in fear of the potential impact of living near the railroad track.The noise from the passing trains provided an extra buffer but also an extra danger:  Allies strafed German trains. They hoped that these attacks would not hit the house, either killing all of them or forcing the Nathans out into the open, thus exposing their dark secret. 

In the second half of 1944, the southern half of Holland was liberated by American troops. (The remaining areas of the Netherlands were not liberated until May 1945.) The Nathans stayed inside for a few more days to make sure they were safe. 

Once they realized they were actually free, the Nathans stepped into fresh  air for the first time in twenty-six months.  “I walked a few feet and collapsed,” remembered Dutch. When asked if he had been overcome with emotion, he said, “I hadn’t used my legs in 26 months and initially had no muscle tone to walk more than a few feet.

Before they could move back into their home, however, Americans bombed Valkenburg. One of the casualties was the Nathan’s home. “No one understood why the brick home next door burned so much,” said Dutch. “The furniture hidden in the attic acted like a tinderbox, and flames shot up in the air for hours.”

In May 1945, the remaining areas of the Netherlands were liberated. Free but homeless, the Nathan family moved into a neighbor’s home until 1946, when they obtained visas to move to United States, where several of Willy’s siblings lived. Willy built a crate the size of a truck and filled it with everything they had accumulated since the end of the war—including a piano. 

Dutch, now sixteen, enrolled in City College to learn English, adding to his previous background of German, French, and Dutch. At 18, he enlisted in the army and volunteered to go to South Korea. When he returned home, he found employment in whatever “made money.” 

In 1979, Dutch, who had been married twice before, met Sue Cohen. He proposed shortly after the meeting, but it took ten years for her to say yes. During this time, Dutch started the Stretch Lace, a Sharon Massachusetts-based company that manufactured and sold elastic shoe laces. (“Tie once, never Tie Again!”) Although his invention was successful, Dutch admitted that he didn’t know marketing and sales. He eventually sold the business, but Easy Laces are still available today and are worn by such celebrities as Brooke Shields. They lived in Sharon for most of their married life before retiring to Kissimmee, Florida, in 2007.

 In 1982, Sue and he were invited by residents of Duren, Germany, to return to the Nathan’s original home. They were treated royally and met with church members as well as school children. Sue’s main mantra to everyone she met was “Just remember! The Holocaust DID happen.” Although their visit was supposed to last a week, Dutch felt uncomfortable. He rented a car, and the two of them toured Europe, driving over 4000 miles before returning to Massachusetts 

Almost seventy-five years after his liberation, Dutch graciously shared the story that he spent most of his life trying to put those terrifying time behind him. “I try not to think about those things,” said Dutch. “It is over and cannot be undone.  His story, however, as those of the fewer and fewer remaining Holocaust survivors, must be told. As Sue Nathan told the people in Germany during the 1982 visit, “Remember. The Holocaust DID happen.” And we Jews and righteous people everywhere will never forget. 

A version of this article originally appeared in the November 8, 2018, issue of the Jewish World News, a bi-weekly subscription-based newspaper in upstate New York.

Profile of resilience — Shoah survivor Harry Lowenstein revisits hometown

Standing in front of the Bielefeld, Germany, railroad station in June 2018, Harry Lowenstein traced his fingers onto the all-too-familiar names etched into the Holocaust memorial. David, his father, Bernhardine, his mother, and his sister Klaere. Aunts and uncles and cousins. Friends and neighbors. During the Nazis’ terror, his family and hundreds of Jews from surrounding areas had stood on the station’s platform before being herded onto railroad cars for the journey to ghettos, concentration camps, forced labor camps, and for most, gas chambers and death.

The then 87-year- old Floridian— the last living Jew from an entire area who had survived the Nazis and WWII— had returned home to honor those whom he had lost, to thank those who risked their lives to help in his survival, and to present his message of tolerance and equality.

Surviving The Holocaust

Harry (nee Helmut) Lowenstein was born in 1931 in Fürstenau/Hoexter Germany, the second child of a cattle/horse trader and his wife. After years of mounting anti-Semitism, Kristallnacht, the “night of the breaking glass,” unleashed the Holocaust in November 1938. It demonstrated to Jews and others across Germany the brutality and determination of Hitler’s war agains the Jews. In their small rural village, the Lowensteins watched their synagogue burn and then experienced increasingly harsher restrictions. While most Christians in the town slammed the doors of their homes and businesses in the faces of their Jewish neighbors, the owners of one small bakery risked their lives by slipping Harry lifesaving loaves of bread. It was a kindness that Harry would never forget.

On Dec. 12, 1941, hundreds of Jews, including the 21 members of the Lowenstein’s extended family, were rounded up and brought to the Bielefeld train station. Hollering SS guards brandishing rifles herded the Jews into crowded rail cars, where they began the almost 1,000 mile journey to the Riga ghetto in Latvia. As it was the first night of Chanukah someone lit the traditional candles, said the traditional prayers and sang Ma’oz Tzur, Rock of Ages. The entire train soon joined in. That last sweet memory would help sustain Harry for the next six years. To this day, Harry tears up every time he hears the song.

The Next Day Comes

After several months in the crowded ghetto, groups of Jews were moved into the Riga-Kaiserwald concentration camp. Harry managed to escape the gas chambers by working in an auto repair shop housed in the complex. He still remembers the unrelenting, intentionally cruel actions by Nazi guards and the fear of beatings, punishment, and execution. “I thought to myself, I will somehow survive,” said Harry. “You learned to live minute to minute—not even hour by hour—to make sure the next day comes.”

In the fall of 1944, as the Russian army drew closer, the Nazis began to evacuate Riga-Kaiserwald. Thousands of Jewish prisoners, including Harry’s remaining family (his father had been murdered earlier) were shipped by boat to Danzig and then by barge to the Stutthof concentration camp in Poland. He lost touch with his family. On March 9,1945, as Harry remembers it, the camp was liberated by the Red Army. Harry’s “next day”—and freedom—had finally come.

The 14-year-old returned to Fürstenau in hopes of reuniting with family. The hopes were in vain. He was the lone survivor. First finding shelter for a short time with kind neighbors, Harry lived for a year with the family who had acquired the house of his family. In 1946, he was placed in a Jewish children’s home in Hamburg. In 1952, after arriving in the United States via Paris, the 21-year -old found his way to Kissimmee, Florida, where he joined his uncle’s apparel store. In 1956, he married Carol Sainker, had three children, and eventually operated his own apparel store. With fellow Jews, including many Holocaust survivors, the Lowensteins helped to found Congregation Shalom Aleichem and then build a synagogue in Kissimmee. “I saw one synagogue burn,” he said. “I wanted to build another.”

The Return

His wife Carol died in February 2017, just before their 60th anniversary. During Carol’s long illness and his year of mourning, Harry had begun to reappraise his past.

Fritz Ostkaemper, who had been a chairman of a Holocaust museum in Höxter, came across Lowenstein’s name as part of a research project tracking the Jewish families from the Westfalia area. Ostkaemper encouraged Harry to return to his childhood home. A previously planned trip to say Kaddish at his grandparents’ gravesite in Fürstenau evolved into a family trip through Europe with his daughters Karen Pridemore and Berna Lowenstein and her husband Greg Fitzgibbons.

After tours in Switzerland, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg, Harry and his family arrived in Germany and traveled to the Bielefeld railroad station. They stood silently in front of the “Each Person Has a Name” memorial. Dedicated in 1998, the monument displayed the names of the 1840 Jewish victims from Westfalia who had been murdered by the Nazis. A further inscription contains Psalm 78.6 in Hebrew and in German: So the next generation would know them, even the children yet to be born, and they in turn would tell their children.

Ostkaemper drove the visitors to Höxter in a limousine provided by the town’s mayor, Alexander Fischer. Harry, with the help of a translator, gave a 15-minute address. The evening ended with a dinner in a beer garden hosted by the community. “Most of the survivors never returned,” Fischer stated in follow-up article in a Westfalia newspaper. “Therefore it [is an] even greater honor to be able to welcome Harry Lowenstein in his former home. This way we set an example against intolerance and racism.”

The following morning, the group traveled to Fuerstenau, where Harry was born. The burned out synagogue had been repurposed into a garage/warehouse. Harry gave a tour pointing out where the bima had been and where the family pews had been located. Harry then sought out the bakery owners that had saved him from starvation. As a large crowd watched, media cameras flashed, and videotape whirled, Harry and the elderly couple hugged each other. Harry was finally able to thank them for their long-ago kindness. “Danke Schoen” he said repeatedly. “Thank you.”

Despite its modernity, the citizens of Fuerstenau had not forgotten its past. In front of each home or area previously inhabited by Jews, was a Stolperstein, a 3.9 inch cube bearing a brass plate inscribed with the name and life dates of victims of Nazi extermination or persecution. Harry found his plate:

Here lived Helmut Lowenstein. Born 1931. Deported 1941 to Riga. [Deported] 1944 to Stutthof. Rieben. February 1945: Death March. Freed. For all the rest of his family, in place of BEFREIT- freed– was the word ERMORDET– murdered.

Zachor

The Jewish cemetery was surprising well kept, according to Harry, and he recited the Kaddish at his grandparents’ graves. His final stop was in nearby Bredenborn to visit with the family with whom he had found shelter for the first year after his liberation. In speaking with local residents of Fuerstenau, Harry was told that a permanent memorial planned for a prominent spot in Fuerstenau had been stymied by uncertainty where it should be placed and by a lack of funds. Harry railed against their excuses. “After 70 years, you should have made a permanent memorial!”

Harry pledged 50% of the funds needed. The permanent bronze plaque was erected in 2021 near the foot of the church and in the middle of the town at a crossroads that everyone must use. He missed the unveiling of the memorial due to the pandemic.

What advice does Harry Lowenstein give as a Holocaust survivor? His message on parting: “Treat each human being equally, no matter who they are.That’s all.“

Sources:

Thank you to Wolfgang Mueller for translating the articles in the Westfalen-Blatt newspapers from German to English.

First published (Capital Region, New York) The Jewish World in its April 27, 2023, issue.