It is no secret that Judaism is filled with irony. Throughout
their history, Jews have had to cultivate a strong sense of humor, often
needing to find laughter within their tears. So it is not surprising that we
might need to read this Shabbat’s Torah portion, Va-yetze, with a sense of
irony. Va-yetze is one of the most hopeful portions we read each year. In it,
Jacob falls asleep on a rock (“Jacob’s Pillow”) and has a dream in which God
tells him, “I will give to you and your seed the land where you are sleeping.
And your seed will be as dust of the earth and spread in all directions, and
through you will all the families on earth be blessed. I am with you and will
guard you. I will not leave you until I have accomplished what I have
promised." The narrative for this week also deals with Jacob’s marriages
and the birth of his 12 sons, who will become the namesakes of the tribes of
Israel. All positive stuff, you have to admit.
But this Shabbat also marks the 75th anniversary
of the Kristallnacht, “the night of broken glass,” when Hitler’s “brownshirts”
broke windows in and set fire to synagogues throughout Germany. German Jews living
through that night (and sadly many did not) probably began to doubt the positive
message God had given Jacob in Va-yetze; they began to wonder if God was indeed
on guard. And it took a special kind of bravery for German Jews (and really all
of us) to put aside their doubt and to go forward after that evening.
The inside of a German synagogue the morning after |
So it is bravery that I want to write about.
On November 10, 1938, my mother-in-law, Frances Malzer, was
23 years old and living in London. She had left home all alone the year before,
following her family’s urging that she leave Hitler’s Germany, and was eking
out an existence as a domestic helper for a German Jewish family living in England.
She once laughingly told us that she was not a very good housemaid, and she
didn’t get along very well with the woman of the house. My mother-in-law was
always very neat, but I don’t think she ever enjoyed cleaning—and certainly not
for other people. She also spoke very little English at the time. She was a
little nervous that she might get fired and be left even more alone in a
strange country.
Frances Malzer, probably around 1938 |
So imagine how she must have felt when she received an
urgent telegram from her parents on November 10, 1938. Her parents were living
in a small town in Bavaria, almost too small to make an impact on a German map
but filled with enough Jews to arouse the anger and attention of the
brownshirts. I am not sure just what the telegram said, but the message was
loud and clear: GET US OUT OF HERE!
And this singular woman set about doing just that. With her
limited English and even more limited resources, she began looking for someone
who could help sponsor her parents to leave Germany and come to England or even
America. Now, my mother-in-law seldom talked about these events, so I can only
guess at them. Somehow she communicated with cousins in Germany or German Jews
in England who let her know that a distant cousin living in New Orleans, of all
places, was wealthy enough and family-centered enough to provide the financial
help and documentation to get her parents and brother out of Germany. So she
set the wheels in motion, finding a way to contact Edgar Stern (whose wife was
the daughter of one of the founders of Sears & Roebuck) and appeal to him
to rescue her family.
(Here I must digress with another ironic twist. Edgar Stern
and his wife had a daughter named Audrey. It was not a common name, but my
mother-in-law really liked it. So perhaps as a way to thank her cousin or
simply because she liked the name, my mother-in-law named her only child— my
wife—Audrey. All to the good. But somehow the Malzers and Sterns had very
little to do with each other once the Malzers arrived in New York. My wife’s
family never cultivated a relationship with their REALLY RICH cousins! Sadly
ironic, and enough to make you laugh and cry at the same time.)
More on bravery. My wife’s uncle Harold, her mother’s younger
brother, was never a very warm or engaging person. We have several family
anecdotes that back that up. He was also not a very lucky person. On November
10, 1938, he was 18 years old and on an outing for Orthodox Jewish youth being
held far away from his family home in Bavaria. So he was a Jewish kid all alone
in a country in which Jews like him were being set upon in the streets by Nazis
or their sympathizers. He once told us a little of what happened to him then. Over
the next several days, he hid out during the days and managed to slip onto
trains at night, until he could finally rejoin his parents. It must have been a
harrowing experience. He did get to England with his parents soon afterwards,
but then his unluckiness resurfaced. He found himself unwittingly enlisting
into the British army to fight the Germans. It would be several years before he
too would make it to New York.
Frances (Franzi) and her brother Harold (Hans) as children in Germany |
I think Audrey’s family may have one more connection to Kristallnacht.
In the days following that terrible night, thousands of Jewish men (as many as
30,000 according to the U.S. Holocaust Museum) were thrown into concentration
camps in Germany, accused of the crime of being Jewish. I know that Audrey’s
father was sent to Dachau, the camp in southern Germany, at around that time and long before he met my mother-in-law in New York.
How did he get there? What was his experience like? How did he get out? He
never talked about any of that. So many European Jews, it seems, never wanted
to tell their children about the ways they suffered. I think they wanted to
spare their children any painful memories. So we are left wondering and filling
in the blanks ourselves.
For my own ancestors, safely in America long before 1938,
Kristallnacht was a news event, painful to read about or view in newsreels but
not very threatening. For Audrey’s family, the event was harrowing and called
for fast action, quick wits, and great bravery. It took all of that for them to
be able to be in a position to experience God’s promise to Jacob that they would be blessed. That
seems ironic to me, but it also makes me proud.
As always, fine article.
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