We’re getting close to the end of the trip now. This morning we set off early on our bus trip – first to Lodz (pronounced Wudge) to see the remnants of the ghetto and the memorial – then on to Warsaw where we will be staying the last two nights of the trip.
A young man from Rexburg, Jordan Berry, is on a mission to Poland and I emailed him to let him know where I’d be and when. He emailed back saying he is in Lodz which disappointed me greatly since we were scheduled to be there for only a few hours to see the remains of the ghetto and the memorial.
But, as we entered the city I told by friends on the bus to keep an eye out for any two young men in dark slacks, white shirts, and backpacks. As we were driving through the main street into the city, Jeremy and Kerry on the other side of the bus motioned out the window. Sure enough – two young men in dark slacks, white shirts, and backpacks. I almost broke something jumping out of my seat to look out their windows to see if one of them was Jordan, but as far as I could tell, neither one of them was Jordan.
I was a little bummed out, but wondered what I would have done if it was Jordan. I guess I would have interrupted our tour guide by screaming, “Pull Over!” and then running over to say “Hi.” It would have been great.
I kept my eyes open for any more missionaries, but since the Lodz ghetto was situated in the poorest, roughest neighborhood of the city, the odds were against me – and I didn’t see any other Elders.
The memorial at Lodz was pretty powerful. It consists of the actual railroad station where the Jews were deported and sent to a concentration camp or killing center. They even have authentic railroad cars from the time. I walked into one and it was pretty creepy. I’ve been through the one at the Holocaust Memorial Museum many times, but that one is just a “period piece,” not one that was actually used. This one was authentic.
There is also a nice memorial with the names of the concentration camps and killing centers where those Jews were deported. The city of Vienna has a very nice memorial plaque on the wall where they express their “shame” in what happened to the Jews of Austria. I found this very interesting – rather than simply blame the Nazi government and express sorrow, they expressed shame. They were acknowledging the role of collaborators in their own city and their own government. The Nazis couldn’t have done what they did without willing collaborators.
There was also a long concrete tunnel which was curved. Unfortunately, we couldn’t go in because for some reason it was closed today. I was told that it was the museum and had information on the occupation and the ghetto from 1939-1945.
The tunnel was curved so you couldn’t see the light at the end, but as you progressed through the tunnel, you could see a little more, then a little more. At the end of the tunnel is a room with a large pillar above. This symbolizes a couple of things – first the smokestacks at the crematorium which was the last stop for millions of Jews. Second, the pillar looks as if it is broken off half-way up. This is a common theme in Jewish graveyards for the markers of people who died young – a life cut short. They often depict trees that are broken off. We saw this theme over and over in different memorials to the murdered Jews of Europe.
That room at the end also has the names of many of the people who were deported from this train station. But, as it was closed today, we could only look from the outside.
We were also told a story about an event that happened in an open are of the Ghetto that is now a park. The leader of the Judenrat did everything he could to keep the ghetto in existence – knowing that as long as they were in the ghetto, they weren’t going to the gas chambers of Treblinka and other death camps. He even went as far as to ask the Jewish parents to allow their children to be deported so the Germans would see that everyone in the ghetto was a worker, of “value” as a worker in the hopes that the ghetto would not be liquidated.
I don’t know how many parents did such a thing, but I can’t even imagine making that request – or following it. I wasn’t there, I didn’t live in such conditions so I can’t judge, but from where I sit today, I believe that there are worse things than death. Sending your children to the gas chambers so I can live is one of those things. Again, I can’t judge, and it’s truly impossible to say what I would have done – but given only those two options, I would have gone with my family intact into the next world.
This reminds me of something Elaine said about her Survivor parents. They were not married during the Holocaust, but she said that they both suffered significantly from post-traumatic-stress disorder. Her mother would often wake up screaming thinking she was back in Auschwitz. Anyway, the point is that Elaine’s parents would never allow their two children to go to “camp.” First of all, the word “camp” didn’t mean the same thing to them as it does to the rest of us. Second, they didn’t allow their children to be away from them for any significant period of time. Elaine never had a sleepover at a friend’s house.
So, for her parents family is everything. Elaine’s mother lives about 5 blocks from her in Philadelphia and they talk by phone every day. When Elaine is on these trips, or elsewhere, it drives her mother nuts until she is close by once again. She always closes her phone calls to Elaine with, “come back to me” in Yiddish.
Having never gone through anything that could even remotely compare, I still can’t see sending my children away. Even if it meant I had to go with them for “special treatment” I can’t see myself letting them go and staying behind.
All this talk of parenting reminds me of interesting things Elaine has told us about her Mother. Here are a few:
· Her parents never went back to Europe – certainly not Poland. They certainly had/have no love for the Poles and Poland.
· Since Elaine’s mother was in Auschwitz for two years she has a number tattooed on arm. When Elaine was young she asked her what it was. Her told her it was her phone number in case she ever forgot it. That terrified Elaine – she worried that the phone company would come and tattoo her number on her arm if she ever forgot it. She remembers memorizing that number at the age of 3.
o Once she told her mother about that and how it scared her. Her mother didn’t quite know what to say. She had always struggled with the decision of how much to tell her children.
o When Elaine’s son was young, he climbed on his grandmother’s lap and asked her about the tattoo. Looking directly at Elaine, she said, “Some bad people put that on me many years ago.” The boy said, “Oh.” Then climbed off her lap and went off to play. I guess in many situations it’s best to confront things – even if it has to be done basically, simply.
· Elaine remembers her mother using the ultimate guilt trip on her when she was a young girl and a teenager. If Elaine was ever complaining about how something was unfair, etc. her mother would ask, “is Hitler at your door?” There is no comeback for that one. . . . .
· Elaine also told us when she first remembers hearing the word “Grandmother.” She wanted to play with a friend of hers, but that friend could not play because her Grandmother was coming over. Elaine had never heard of such a thing. She went home and asked her Mother, “What’s a Grandmother?” Her mother was silent for a time and then explained that it was a Mother’s Mother, or a Father’s Mother. Elaine was shocked. “You have a mother?” “Yes, and so does your Father.” was the reply. Then Elaine asked where they were. From there she began to learn about the Holocaust and the experiences of her parents.
· Elaine remembers growing up in a house with “ghosts.” This is her way of referring to the people she heard about, but there was no real evidence of them – no photographs, no heirlooms, nothing tangible to link her life with theirs.
o I think of my own children and my Mother. 3 of the 4 have never met her and the oldest can’t remember her at all. But, we have photos, heirlooms, things to connect them to her. Elaine didn’t have that growing up.
· Elaine’s parents were planning to go to Palestine after they were married (in a Displaced Persons Camp after the war), but soon, Elaine’s mother was pregnant with Elaine and a friend who had already emigrated to Palestine (Israel today) told them there was a Civil War going on and no place to raise a child, so they came to US. They were sponsored by her two uncles who had come to the US before the war.
After the memorial in Lodz, we stopped at a mall for some lunch before going back to Warsaw. As we walked around the mall, the four of us “man cave” or “back of the bus” guys thought we needed to lighten up the mood. We found a party favors store in the mall and bought ridiculous hats to wear home on the bus. We kept them in bags until we were about 20 feet from the bus and then donned them. Jeremy even found some 2 carat (at least) fake diamond clip-on earrings to wear (“bling”).
The entrance we made was more than memorable. As we sauntered to the back of the bus all the cameras came out – it took us over 5 minutes to sit down. It was a lot of fun. These “light” moments are sorely needed on a trip like this.
Dinner was much the same. Kerry, Tom, and I sat with Misty, Michelle, Kerry (female) and Cori. We laughed much of the time. Poor Jeremy was stuck at a small table next to Steven and had to listen to an almost interrupted lecture during the entire dinner. We filmed him nodding his head as he listened to Steven and added our own comedic voice overlay. It was hilarious. Steven finally caught on that something was going on behind him and Cori pretended to show me something on her camera. It was all I could do not break out into uncontrollable laughter. I won’t tell you what Jeremy said after dinner. . . . J
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