71st Anniversary of the Goldberg’s Arrival in NY – Golden Ticket in Hand

 

[Photo:  Esther and Fay at Foehrenwald DP Camp c. 1946]

Seventy-one years ago, today, Sam, Esther Goldberg arrived in New York with their four-year-old daughter Fay, to start a new life.   Before they received visas to emigrate, they were in Displaced Persons’ Camp (DP Camp) in Germany for four years. They arrived at Foehrenwald in October of 1945. They lived there for approximately two years and then moved to Stuttgart because they thought they had a better chance of getting visas there.

Since the Corona virus has entered our world, I’ve been thinking more deeply about what the DP Camp might have been like and what a four year wait, in a kind of limbo, might have felt like. We have been “at home” for two and a half months, but yet, it feels like an eternity.

For the two years they lived in Foehrenwald, they shared a one-room living space with a single man. While Sam would go out of the camp to trade on the black market, Esther remained in the confines of the safe haven, caring for her young daughter, Fay.  Each day was probably much like the one before – making sure they had food, “handlin” to make money, caring for their child, visiting with friends.

While I am not comparing our Corona virus “stay at home” time with their years in the DP Camp, I look at their experience with a new lens. They waited day after day, for four years, hoping to hear news of their emigration to the United States. They probably felt helpless because there was so little that they could do to achieve their goal. So much of it had to do with the United States emigration laws. Until Congress passed the Displaced Person’s Act in July of 1948 few survivors in DP Camps got visas. But this new law authorized visas for 200,000 displaced persons and 3,000 displaced orphans. In order to be eligible for one of these golden tickets, the survivor had to have arrived in Germany before December 22, 1945.   Further, the law required that 30% of the visas go to “agriculturalists.”

The passage of this law made all the difference for Sam and Esther. They had arrived in Germany in October of 1945, they had cousins in America who were willing to “sponsor” them, and Sam was a farmer. Perfect. In August of 1948, they applied again for visas under this new Act. Sam and Esther were interviewed yet again. But this time, Sam was “certified” as a “2^nd Class Farmer.” There is an actual document from the International Refugee Organization with a very official stamp and signature (see above).   Sometime in early 1949, they received news that their visas were approved, and they would sail to America in May. It was May 28, 1949 when their ship, the USAT Marine Jumper, arrived in New York Harbor with Lady Liberty holding up her torch to greet them.

This is a moment for us all to pause and appreciate – because it’s a celebration of survival, resilience and hope. After all the death, the loss, the fear and hiding, the starvation, the days of hopelessness, they had made to America to start a new life.

Tonight, we begin the Holiday of Shavuot – a celebration of the beginning of the abundance of the harvest and of receiving the Torah on Mount Sinai after the Exodus from Egyptian slavery. On May 28, 1948, Sam and Esther left their Egypt – their narrow place of suffering. I imagine that on that day they were sad for all they lost in Europe, but that they were filled with hope for tomorrow.

I want to live with hope for tomorrow and celebrate Sam and Esther’s grit and determination. Right now, with so many around the world suffering from the Corona Virus and so many families grieving for the loss of a loved one, we can pause, reach deep within ourselves to find our grit and determination. We need it.

It is traditional to learn on the first night of Shavuot in order to connect with the giving of the Torah on Mount Sinai. If you explore a text or a thought this evening, please dedicate some of your learning in memory of Sam and Esther Goldberg and some to those who have died of this dreaded virus.

Please stay healthy and allow the joy of the Holiday to enter your home and your heart. I will be making blintzes – hope you will too. I have a blintz recipe on my website (www.karentreiger.com) if you need a good one.

Reminder – Seattle Holocaust Center Conversation – Today – 1-2 PM

I am very excited to let you know that my “travel agent hero” Joanna Millick will join in the Seattle Holocaust Center Zoom call – today from 1-2 PM (pacific time).  The Holocaust Center has also invited the educators who went on its educational trips to Poland with Joanna and, as part of the trip, they visited Treblinka and the Stys family.    

I believe that it will be a timely and meaningful discussion.

Here is the link with more information and to register to join the conversation.

 

https://www.holocaustcenterseattle.org/programs-events/593-novelideas-book-discussion-with-paul

Book Discussion with the Seattle Holocaust Center – May 27 1-2 PM (PDT)

I will be joining forces with educator, Paul Regelbrugge and other Holocaust Center for Humanity staff, in an engaging and highly interactive discussions about My Soul is Filled with Joy: A Holocaust Story.  Open to all. This will be an informal chat and is intended to examine enduring text-based questions and themes, teaching approaches and strategies, and anything else you wish to share and discuss regarding this book.

It will be on Wednesday, May 27, from 1-2 PM (pacific time).

Come and join in the discussion.  Here is the link with more information and to register to join the conversation.

https://www.holocaustcenterseattle.org/programs-events/593-novelideas-book-discussion-with-paul

 

Thursday, May 14 at 7 PM – First ever Zoom Book Presentation

 

I hope this note finds you all well during the challenging time we find ourselves in.

I want to let you know that I will be doing my first ever Zoom book event with Auntie’s  Book Store – an Independent Book Store in Spokane.  I was supposed to be in Spokane this week, but that didn’t happen, so we are doing it via Zoom.

The cool think is that you can attend from anywhere.

Here is a link to the Facebook Page that has the zoom link and password:

https://www.facebook.com/events/684081002357921/

Please share with friends.  There will be a breakout room in the middle and questions and answers at the end.

Thanks. Karen

 

 

Shaya (Sam) Schloss – A Remembrance

Shaya (Sam) Schloss died last week at the age of 97.   He died of the Corona virus that is taking so many beautiful people.  He was Sam Goldberg’s first cousin (mothers were sisters).  He grew up not far from Bagatele.  Like Sam, he was the sole survivor of his family.  He was buried last Thursday and this morning, his children, grandchildren and great-grand-children put together a beautiful memorial on Zoom.  I am grateful that we could participate, though we are 3,000 miles away.

I met Shaya and his wife Faiga 36 years ago when Shlomo and I got engaged.   They welcomed me to the family with open arms and open hearts.  But it was in 2015, when I decided to write a book about Sam and Esther’s experiences during the war, that our relationship deepened.   Shaya and I had long telephone and in-person conversations. He spent hours telling me stories about his own life and Sam and Esther’s lives.   He visited the Goldberg farm in Bagatele many times and he was at Sam and Esther’s small wedding in December of 1944 and he even lived with them in Ostrow, after war, when Fay was born.

[Photo:  Shaya (Sam) Schloss and Shmulke (Sam) Goldberg at Föhrenwald c. 1947]

In 2015, I took a writing class at the University of Washington and our first assignment was to interview someone and write a short profile.   I asked Shaya if he would be my subject.  He said ok, so long as I only write about the early years.   I agreed.  In his memory, I share the profile with you.

Shaya, you live on in my heart and in the lives of your children, grand-children and great-grand-children.  Thank you for having such an amazing memory and being willing to share so much with me.

A World Destroyed: Profile of Sam Schloss

By: Karen Treiger

“My mother,” sighs Sam, “was beautiful, charming and sweet. The last time I saw her, she pushed me out the door screaming: ‘Run, run away — into the woods.’” Run he did, as fast as he could. It was the day after Yom Kippur, 1942. Then he was alone in the Polish woods – no family, no food and no place to sleep. He would never see his family again – his world was erased.

Now, a 93 year old great grandfather with wispy grey hair, a gentle, warm face and a welcoming smile, Sam Schloss lives in Monsey, New York. There are some stories he won’t tell, but a glimpse of his world destroyed – “this I will tell you, so you should know,” he says.

Surrounded by three acres of farm land, the Schloss family lived in a wooden house with a tin roof that was host to the Polish village’s only general store. “Our village, Jasienuce,* had three policemen, a mayor, a post office and a jail,” Sam says. Being one of only three Jewish families in the village made it a tough neighborhood. Although he had a few non-Jewish friends, most of Sam’s classmates made his life miserable.   The name calling, kicks and punches directed his way toughened him up, but was not his idea of fun. He stayed close to home after school, studying Hebrew and Jewish texts with his father and helping in the store.

When he was nine, Sam’s parents agreed that he could live with his Aunt in Komorow, a larger village – 50% Jewish.   He was thrilled to get away from the bullies. While mornings were spent at public school, afternoons were dedicated to studying at the cheder. Though he missed his parents, with so many Jewish friends, Sam felt at home. He loved his Aunt and Uncle and shared their warm and gracious home. His Aunt was a successful businesswoman, but the couple had no children. Sam had delicious food, warm clothes and hugs. Nonetheless, after a year, his father brought him home. He felt that the style of Jewish education in the Komorow cheder was not the type he wanted for his son.

Back in Jasienuce, “my father again became my teacher,” he says. Sam’s father was a Torah scholar, educated at the famous Slonim Yeshiva and in Berlin’s cantorial schools. He was sought out as a cantor in the big synagogues of Ostrow for the High Holy Days. “My father tried to make me a meshoyer to accompany him a little bit. He would sing and I was supposed to sing along – bum, bum.”

Sam’s mother, who taught him life lessons that sustained him through the horrible years of war, could daven in the synagogue and was versed in Hebrew, Russian, Polish and Yiddish. Together his parents built a life, raising four children. But this life was not to last.

The latent dragon of Polish anti-Semitism was aroused by Hitler’s rise to power in 1933. The antisemites of Jasienuce boycotted the Schloss’s store and pelted rocks at their home. Sam’s mother was hit in the head, requiring stitches. They could not stay. In 1934, when Sam was 12, the family moved to the nearby town of Ostrow. Sam was delighted to live in Ostrow. It “opened a new world – Jewish neighbors, Jewish friends, Jewish schools,” he tells.   Sam attended public school and joined a Zionist Youth Organization where girls and boys gathered to listen to lectures by Zionist instructors and watched films of life in Israel. “We used to sing and play all kinds of games,” he recalls with a smile.

Between 1934 and 1939 the Schlosses settled into life in Ostrow.   Sam’s parents opened a store, similar to the one in Jasienuce. Not caring for any of the trades he tried out after graduation, Sam worked in his parents’ store.   In the store, he felt useful and satisfied that he was helping his family.

The best day of the week was the Sabbath. “We had good food and Shabbos Zmiros (Sabbath songs).” In Ostrow, the Schlosses lived in a Jewish neighborhood and their house had windows that faced the main street. “We had people stopping over in front of our windows listening to the beautiful melodies,” he described.

Then, on September 1, 1939, eight days after Germany and the Soviet Union signed a Non-Aggression Pact, slicing Poland in half, the Germans attacked.   Bombs exploded everywhere. Three days later, the Germans army occupied Ostrow. Nazi SS Officers vandalized the synagogues, burned the Torah Scrolls, broke into Jewish homes and shops, robbing property and beating Jews.   “They loaded up merchandise,” Sam recalls, “– truck after truck and shipped it off.”

Yet again, there was no choice. They packed up and ran three miles to the Soviet –controlled area of Poland. They found a place to live and managed to keep the family together for the next three years. They were safe – for a time.

Until that day — the day after Yom Kippur 1942 – when the Nazis ordered all Jews sent to “labor camp” — a euphemism for death camp.** That is the day, when Sam’s mother pushed him out the door, saying: “you are young, you can survive and then you will be able to tell the world.” Sam ran, ran for his life.

*pronounced Yashnitz

** Before WWII, Polish Jews made up Europe’s largest Jewish population — 3.3 million.

[Photo:  Bruce Schloss, me, Shaya Schloss, and Jack Schloss]

Here is an old post about my visit with Sam a few years ago when the above photo was taken:

https://soyouwanttowriteaholocaustbook.wordpress.com/2017/08/31/a-visit-with-shaya-schloss/