GUNTHER RICE ORAL HISTORY

CHRISTA WHITNEY: This is Christa Whitney, and today is December 13th, 2012. I am here in Glencoe with Gunther Rice, and we are going to record an interview as part of the Yiddish Book Center's Wexler Oral History Project. Do I have your permission to record this interview?

GUNTHER RICE: You sure do.

CW:Thanks. And so, to start, I'm wondering what you can tell me, what you know about your family background -- your grandparents' generation or before?

GR:I'd be glad to tell you about my parents' generation and the family that I 1:00produced, but not much beyond that, and I will explain that in a minute. Let me introduce myself by saying that my original name was Gunther Zloczower, or in Polish, pronounced "Zloczower." And that is spelled Z-l-o-c-z-o-w-e-r. So, you shouldn't be surprised that I changed my name somewhere along the line. I am the ninth child of Chaim -- spelled C-h-a-i-m -- and Lea Esther Zloczower. I was born in Hamburg. And as you can tell by the name, my parents were Polish 2:00citizens -- Jewish, of course -- but they lived in Hamburg. Now, this is how they came to be in Hamburg. After the World War I, there was quite a migration of Polish Jews to America. And my father was going to make that voyage, just like many of the people he knew. But the way to get to America -- the goldene medine [America, lit. "golden land"], it was called -- was by way of land transportation to Hamburg, and taking the boat to America. When he got to Hamburg, however -- and this was roughly 1902, '03, or '04 -- he ran out of 3:00money, and he turned to the Jewish community. They persuaded him to stay in Hamburg rather than make the trip, telling him that there was work for him that he could do, earn money, and raise a family -- no need to risk going over the broad seas. And so, he did. It was, at that time, relatively safe to be a Jew and to make a living. He was trained as a turner -- that's a specialty -- 4:00working with wooden objects like chess pieces or table legs. But when he came to Hamburg, before long, he got a furniture store that he ran. After settling about a year in Hamburg, he brought his wife over, who already had two babies. And that was the beginning of our family.

CW:Do you know anything about -- did you hear about their life in Poland before they came?

GR:Not really. I've tried to find out what life was like. The reason that it did not come up -- and I didn't ask -- was that life at home was like being under a 5:00dark cloud. I was born in 1924. That makes me eighty-eight years old.

CW:Biz hundert un tsvantsik [May you live to be a hundred and twenty].

GR:(laughs) Yeah. And -- '33 -- and when I was nine years old, Hitler came to power. So, I sensed the depressive atmosphere. And my attitude, even as a young boy, was, Don't rock the boat. My parents did not volunteer any information about the past. I can only presume that my parents -- my father having come from Lwów -- now it's L'viv, Ukraine -- my mother from Bolechów, which is not far 6:00from Lwów -- I would only assume that they joined in what seems to me like a movement of people -- like, Let's get out of here. The persecution and the poor economic conditions prompted them to get out. So, incidentally, my father, when he was still in Lwów, Poland, would make trips to Bolechów, where my mother lived. And I don't know how, but I imagine he took some merchandise along, for market day or for the weekend. And the family story has it that he, having a 7:00very good tenor voice, would sing the liturgical and popular songs, which entranced my mother. He loved life, very easily made friends, and liked to be out, where people would meet on the street. My mother, on the other hand, was very bookish and quiet and retired, and an unbelievable worker -- in the house, taking care of nine kids. So, she fell in love with this spirited, good-looking young man. And that's where they married. When they moved to Germany, they had 8:00to take another marriage vow to be married in a civil manner. Otherwise, the older children would not be recognized as being legitimate children. And so, they did. Let me then tell you how I got by my change of name.

CW:Sure.

GR:My brother, who is about eighteen, nineteen years older than I, left Germany in 1938, prompted by my mother's conviction that we all had to get out. It was already getting very, very dangerous. Fortunately, she -- my mother -- appealed 9:00to my uncle here in Chicago and asked them to make out the necessary papers for them to come. Which he did, a good many months before I ever got out -- actually, a year. And it was difficult for him to get around with the name that he had. He would have to spell it or pronounce it. My uncle's name was Rice, and he said, "Why not adopt that name? Very simple." My father was not too happy about that. But that's what it was. So, when I came here -- and I'll go back 10:00again in a moment -- I was drafted just two or three months after my arrival. Drafted is not exactly the word, because I could have denied the enlistment, but I wanted to serve in the army. And at that time, I still had to suffer the name of Zloczower in the army. The only advantage was that my name started with a Z, so I was the last one to be called for some duty. Otherwise, it was a hell of a time. So, this brother of mine, by the name of Simon, was the first to come to America, and I followed him.

CW:So --

GR:Then, I have several older brothers. The oldest brother, Sam by name, he sort 11:00of played the role of the disciplinarian at home. My father was not inclined to punish us or even worry about what we're doing. For the most part, everybody but one brother was very compliant and agreeable. So, Sam was our Englishman, because he worked for a firm that did business with England -- actually, HAPAG -- H-A-P-A-G -- which stands for Hamburg Petroleum Actien-Gesellschaft -- that's German for "limited" -- and I'll get back to him in a moment. Then, there was my 12:00brother Julius. He managed to get to what was then Palestine, and he had come to the States after spending some years there. One brother of mine died as a boy before I was born, so I never knew him, although that weighed heavily on my mother's sense of being. Another brother of mine died at the age of nineteen, and I was five years old at that time. And that event, I do remember. He was 13:00hired by the landlord where we lived. The landlord also had, in addition to doing his duties as a landlord, had a tobacco shop, and this brother of mine would drive the van that he had.

CW:So, your brother --

GR:All right. And that was kind of a rickety old van, which -- he suffered, actually, a collision with that van of his. Whether it really was that bad, I don't know, and whether he had any fault in it doesn't really matter, but he was killed. And that brother of mine was the apple of my mother's eye. He 14:00represented my father in his younger years, and his beauty and his character. That hit her very hard. So, she had a number of trauma -- to add to her natural depressive state. And I say that to highlight that the atmosphere at home was sad, actually. Quiet, for the most part. And we went about our day's work. And in the course of the years, when we were all still there, before Hitler's time -- not before Hitler's time, but before the self-set deadline for us to get out 15:00-- those brothers and sisters of mine, about whom I still have to tell you, were -- had problems with their jobs, because Hitler would see to it that we Jews did not have a way of life that can be called human. Quickly, about my sisters. The oldest sister, by the name of Cilli -- C-i-l-l-i -- she married a seaman who was plying -- the ship was plying a trade between Hamburg and Buenos Aires, Hamburg 16:00and New York, Hamburg and Trieste, Italy, and Hamburg-Haifa. So, when he married her, they were on the way -- decided to wait -- on the way to Haifa. And that's where they stopped and -- at least my sister, with the little baby she had -- and sort of waited for the ship to come in. It was very, very difficult for her to maintain a living with him, so she had to find support wherever she could. Eventually, she made it to Haifa. Next in line was my sister Edith. She was five 17:00years older than I. And she was my favorite sister. She loved me and I loved her. And she is the only one who is still alive. She's now ninety-four years old and in Tel Aviv -- Givatayim, actually. Now the sister next to me, I loved her dearly, too, but I also fought with her, because she was close to me. And her name was Betti. But she perished, together with my parents. Now, how did that come about?

CW:Well, can I ask you a question or two first?

GR:Sure.

CW:You mentioned a little bit about your home life and it feeling very quiet and as if there was a black cloud over you. Was the home -- were you very religious 18:00when you were growing up? Or did you go to shul or --

GR:Right. Well, by our standards here, now, we were Orthodox. But by the standards at the time, we were Modern Orthodox. For example, unlike other kids I knew, I did not pin my handkerchief to my pocket, so that I was not thought of as carrying it on Shabbat. This is sort of an ultra-Orthodox thing. Or, on Yom Kippur, my really Orthodox friends would wear sneakers. There should be no 19:00leather between your soles and the holy floor of the synagogue. We didn't go that far. However, we went to shul several times a week, and of course on all the festivals and feast days and so on. As a matter of fact, as soon as I got bar mitzvah, my father dragged me to shul, so that we had a minyan. And that was very early in the morning. And I had just turned thirteen. But in retrospect, of course, I have some lovely memories. When he would be praying down below, on the 20:00ground level of our synagogue, and I would join him, he would always point out where the hazan [(synagogue) cantor], the leader is at, so I could follow in the siddur, the prayer book. Much of the time during the holidays, I was in the choir, which was above the women's section. And our songs were just floating down. My brothers had preceded me to the choir, so that we all knew the same songs. And came Pesach, we were all singing like we had an a cappella group, especially with Julius singing the second voice, the alto. That is my fondest 21:00memory. We were all together. It was wonderful. My father ran through the text; he wanted to eat already. And we did the whole thing. Absolutely the whole thing.

CW:Do you remember any of the melodies that you used to sing?

GR:Yes. Part of the Hallel [Jewish prayer recited on certain major holidays]. (sings) "Halleluyah! Hallelu avdei hashem, hallelu et shem adonai./Y'hi shem adonai m'vorach, me'atah, v'ad olam. [Hebrew: Praise God! Praise, oh servants of God, praise the name of God./Blessed be the name of God, from this time forth and forever.]" (singing wordlessly) And so on and so on. That's one -- the 22:00Hallel on Pesach. And, of course -- I'm thinking whether I know the melodies of "How is this night different from all other nights" -- though this has been supplanted already by the American (UNCLEAR), but I know that -- I have to brag a little bit -- as a boy, I had a good voice. You wouldn't recognize it now. And I think I was known for one particular song for Friday night. That was called -- (singing) "Tzadik, katomor yifroh,/ke'erez balevonon yisgeh [Hebrew: The 23:00righteous will flourish like a palm tree/and grow like a cedar in Lebanon]." (sings without words) And so on. That really sounded good at the time.

CW:Thank you for sharing that. I'm just going to put this over here. Could you just take yourself back there and tell me what you remember from the way that your shul looked and smelled like?

GR:The shul was the second best. The big shul was renowned -- and I have a 24:00picture of it I can show you later -- and it was just a step below the big shul, which was more Orthodox. Interesting about our shul is that it was at the end of an alley, really away from the traffic. And that was, obviously, to hide it in the event that it would be a target. I understand the shul survived, but it was razed later to make room. We lived in the university area of Hamburg, in a place called Grindel. It was primarily a Polish Jewish area. And my life was 25:00restricted to that area: not because I had to, but there was no need to go out of that area. My school was just down the street, about two minutes' walk. And all the shops that we frequented were in this area, too. And our shul was on the corner. So, with the school, the Talmud Torah, the synagogue, the shul, and our house all within walking distance, I, as a kid -- no need to go elsewhere. I should add that the language at home was Yiddish. So, I picked up the Yiddish; I 26:00never learned formally Yiddish -- which comes as a great surprise to my lady friend. I've been widowed for five years now, just to make it legal here. How could you have learned -- you know, she's studied Yiddish, so there's a difference. And I kind of liked it. And my brothers, may they forgive me, were more concerned about acculturating to the German culture, and they didn't like 27:00it. My parents would also speak to me in German, of course, but they could feel free to speak to me in Yiddish, which was not welcomed by the rest of my family. And so, I heard Yiddish songs -- the famous "Oyfn pripetshik [By the hearth]." Very recently, I went to the Oberlin College in Ohio, where my granddaughter goes, and I attended a Friday night service. And along with introducing myself, I said, "Would you like to hear 'Oyfn pripetshik'?" And they all chimed in. I was so happily surprised that they knew that. And I'm wandering a little, but I'll come back. I have found that Yiddish is very good, no matter where I go and 28:00meet up with Jewish people. It's almost a universal language, for me, but in truth, it isn't. But that's how I feel. Okay, I really want to come back to the time we had to leave Hamburg.

CW:Okay.

GR:Yeah? Unless you have some questions at this point.

CW:Well, I did want to ask about this sort of sense that you mentioned before about having -- feeling that there was a black cloud over the community and how difficult it was, and sort of what it was like to grow up in a society where 29:00things were so limited in terms of where you could work and where you could go. And I'm wondering if you can tell me a little bit about that, and then we can certainly talk about that.

GR:Well, everybody was working. And I'm thinking of Cilli, Sam, Edith, and Julius, and Simon -- they all had to chip in to keep us above water. Also -- this was about '36 through '38 -- we took in as boarders, lodgers, two Jewish boys who would go to the Talmud Torah as well, because at that time, no Jewish 30:00kids were allowed in the community schools. And this was, of course, a Jewish school entirely. The faculty was Jewish -- only one non-Jewish teacher. That was gym. He taught gym. And that is worthy of note, because I've always thought it reflected something about the two cultures. The Jewish culture, though the bodily health is important -- it is not raised to the highest level of value. That's a German value, particularly in Hitler's days. So, I imagine that he was 31:00hired -- I'm sure they could have hired a Jewish -- or maybe not -- a Jewish gym teacher. But he was the only non-Jew. What else about life?

CW:Well, I --

GR:So, it was -- we were very poor. And the news of the day didn't reach me; I was just a kid. But I could see that everybody was sort of concerned. And what to do? And what is going on in the outside world?

CW:You were quite young. There are some dates that stand out in terms of -- in '31 with the destruction of a cemetery -- the bes-oylem -- and a shul, and again --

GR:Oh, that was -- yes, the destruction -- no, the destruction came after we have left. And I'm going to lead up to that right now.

CW:Okay.

GR:But the home was a shelter for our survival -- let me put it that way. And at home -- no, I want to start differently. My mother saw the writing on the wall. And it was very important to her to get everyone out while we can. And my mother knew that -- I think -- that she wouldn't see anybody again. But she pushed us 33:00out anyway: that we had to survive, whatever happened. And so, it was that she pushed out Cilli, who eventually went to Haifa by way of Trieste, Italy. She pushed out Julius and got her son-in-law to take him on the boat, so he was a seaman for a time. She pushed out Simon, by appealing to her stepbrother -- my uncle -- in America to make her papers. She pushed out Betti, to join the -- we called it the WIZO -- W-I-Z-O -- that's the Women's International Zionist Organization -- these were pioneers. That left Sam and Betti and me at home with 34:00my parents. We had a flat in an apartment building in Grindel that had seven rooms. And in October, one week after my fourteenth birthday, there was a knock on the door. Nobody knocks on the door; there are bells. Something was up. Well, there were two uniformed Germans. I'm not sure whether they were SS or SA or even police, but they were uniformed, and they said, You're all under arrest. And, Pack your things. You can take a few things, that's it. And you have twenty 35:00minutes -- fifteen, twenty minutes. But not me -- they didn't get me -- because I was just fourteen and under age. So, off they went. I was not even up, I don't think, but I quickly got up, and -- what to do? I had no one to ask. They may have asked where they were going; I'm sure they got no answer. No message left. No cell phones. I went down below to the street, and it was -- I was -- I think, 36:00like -- looking back on it, like a chicken with the head cut off. I think I must have run hither and yon. Yeah, I ran down another street, where my uncle lived -- another uncle, my father's sister -- and there was no answer. And I had no idea why not. I thought maybe the police had come to their house, or maybe they're hiding out -- no idea. But I did find another boy in equal straits, also running along the street, and we kind of hooked up together. What to do? We went 37:00to the police station and said, You can arrest us, too, and take us to our parents -- which they were only too happy to oblige. So, here was -- there are several miracles in my life; this was the first miracle. How it happened, I don't know, but I got reunited with my parents at the collection area, where all the Polish Jews were arrested and assembled, right by a train station. And I don't know how they -- I have no idea how -- the connection between our going to the police station and seeing my parents again. But it's going to remain a mystery. And they were -- my parents and Betti. Sam, who was arrested too, could 38:00get out, because he had an English visa because of his travels. He, incidentally, had brought me from England to my bar mitzvah a tallis, which I still have. So, they had us go on board the train. They were not cattle trains; they were passenger cars, fortunately. But we had no idea where we were going, how long we would be going, what would happen to us. Everything was absolutely unknown. And we traveled for many hours, all the way to the border of Germany -- the border with Poland. And then, we had to get out -- again, shnel, shnel -- 39:00quick. And that was already a tragic thing to see, how everybody then disembarked. And someone brought their bedding along, and someone brought a bag along, and others had old suitcases. And there was no railroad station; it was an open land. I never figured out -- other than, we had to march along. And we came to no man's land, and that is a stretch of land between the two countries, Germany and Poland. Each country had its -- what do you call the thing that goes 40:00up and down -- stop the traffic?

CW:A gate? Or --

GR:Gate. Thank you. (UNCLEAR) gates. Well, the Germans opened the gates and pushed us across to no man's land.

CW:This is in 1938, right?

GR:Nineteen thirty-eight. That was just a few days before Kristallnacht -- a week before Kristallnacht, I think. I have more to say about that, too. And well, people would sit down on the ground, exhausted, bewildered, crying, terrified. And I was with my mother, father, and Betti. Now, after a time -- the Poles wouldn't let us in; they didn't raise their gate. We had no official 41:00permission to go to Poland. The reason that the whole thing came about was because Poland decided that those people with Polish nationality who had not been back to Poland the last five years would lose their nationality, because that would make sure that Poland would be -- wouldn't get any more Jews. Well, Hitler didn't want those Jews, either, and he certainly didn't want them stateless. And Poland had been given a three-day ultimatum. So, nobody could just pick up within that space of time and move to Poland, and nobody would have wanted to, anyway. This is why Hitler decided that rather than have these Polish 42:00Jews under the aegis of the League of Nations, which they would fall under, he would deport them. And so, we were deported. Well, after a time, the German soldiers -- I think they were -- were afraid that we might eventually run back to the German side, so they had to make sure that that wouldn't happen. So, they entered the no man's land space, and a panic broke out. I cannot say for sure that they shot people, but I heard shots -- maybe just shooting in the air -- 43:00certainly pushing, threatening. And I relied on my emergency response. I saw that the Polish guards -- there were three of them, five at most -- they held someone, each of them, so I figured, they cannot go after anybody else, so I ran across, and I hid in the guard house -- that is, just the entrance. The wa--

CW:So, you ran towards -- into Poland? Or --

GR:Yes. Across the border, into Poland, out of the no man's land. And of course, there was a terrible panic breaking out, and people started running. Now they 44:00started running, and they ran where I had run, which is that part across the border, past the guard house. Here comes miracle number two. My parents and Betti were running with the masses and saw me standing there -- or I saw them -- but I was reunited at that point. Could you believe it? So, we then kept walking, walking to the nearest border village. And the border village was called in Polish, Zbaszyn -- Z-b-a-s-z-y-n. The German word for that Polish 45:00village was Bentschen. The irony of life was that "bentshn" is also Yiddish for "praying." I'm sure a lot of us prayed. And when we came to Zbaszyn, the village, we absolutely overwhelmed the population. They were farmers. But we couldn't go any further. They had a little railroad station. It's a little bit like the urban railroad station in those villages up along the lake here. And it was cramped. Word got out that we would be taken into Poland -- further into Poland -- by train. The train never came. We stayed in that twelve-by-twelve, or 46:00whatever it was -- I was fortunate. As a kid, they allowed me to lie on the table overnight. Others were sleeping standing up, (UNCLEAR) all packed together. They all wanted to go on by train, but it never came. That's Godot. And when we knew that we had to stay in the village, everybody was looking for a place to stay. I think we were a little late in doing that, so we had to go to the outskirts of the village, and we found, actually, a little house where they let us in, and they rented us a room. The landlord -- and I think landlady -- I 47:00never remember the man -- maybe there wasn't. Maybe she was a widow. But she ran that house and whatever farming duties she had. Her name was Ciecinska, but I don't know whether I need to spell that. That house happened to be just beyond the border that the Poles had drawn for us to stay in, so we were on edge throughout, being not quite -- not really inside the village, but not outside, where we could go away. And so, we felt we were at risk, so we were always keeping our ear out for knocks on the door. We were supported by some money 48:00coming in from Edith, who meanwhile managed to get to Palestine, and from my uncle a little bit. I don't know who else. None of them was really able to do that, but nonetheless. Now, while we were still at the railroad station, an emissary came from an organization called Refugee Children's Movement, based in Bloomsbury, London. And he would take names of refugee children, up to age -- 49:00under sixteen, under sixteen. So, my mother signed me up. Betti was just over sixteen, and she was too honest to lie about her age. So, when the day came that we could go into the interior of Poland, about nine months after we had arrived at the border, we traveled to Lwów, my father's hometown. And there, I had an uncle. So, we stayed at his house for about a week or two, and we found a place where we could be by ourselves -- minimal, just -- what I remember, or was told 50:00-- it's, like, a one-room apartment. I really should also tell you that my life, from the time we were deported to the time that I arrived in England, I was not quite myself. I had built up in me a defense that did not allow me really to be in touch with the feelings, and that was just as well. So, with that defense, I 51:00could not take a lot in, and what I could take in, I would promptly forget. So, these are just snapshots that I remember. But as soon as we arrived in Lwów, a telegram came -- in those days, we had telegrams -- and it said that I should report to Warsaw, because I can join the Kindertransport. So, I was fourteen years old, my parents had just tried to move into their own place, and they had to see me off. And that was the last time I saw them.

CW:And you knew of the Kindertransport at that point? You somehow knew what it was?

GR:Well, we knew we would go to England. That's all. But I can fill you in on how it came about. I'm very intense about that. When we got on the train and landed in no man's land, we had among us a set of parents called Grynszpan, spelled in the Polish manner -- G-r-y-s-z -- green -- G-r-y-n-s-z-y-n -- that's the way to spell Grynszpan. They had a boy about nineteen years old who managed to get out ahead of them in Paris. And they wrote to him that they were deported 53:00by force, they didn't know where they were going, they didn't know when -- whether they can send him another message, they didn't know whether they would be killed. That boy got that letter, went to the German embassy in Paris, went in to shoot the ambassador, but he got a second-rank official, shot him. That guy lived in the hospital three more days, and then died of his wounds, thank God. However, this was Hitler's excuse to launch the Kristallnacht. Not many people know that -- that this was the trap wire. Now, let's see, how did I come 54:00there? I'm not quite sure.

CW:Well, did you want to tell me something -- you said earlier you wanted to say something about Kristallnacht?

GR:Fortunately, I was not there anymore. We were already in Poland at that time. But Kristallnacht is so well known that I don't really need to. And Kristallnacht -- although the main synagogue in Hamburg was destroyed -- totally -- absolutely, totally. And now it is just a large place -- empty place with asphalt, nothing built on it, and there is a memorial plaque in the nearest 55:00structure. And I searched for my own shul, which was also gone. And actually, nobody in my first trip could know what I was looking for. My second trip, I found it. And hidden away in a little recess is again, a memorial plaque: Here stood the synagogue -- during that time, it was ba-ba-ba. Not very impressive, but okay, time moves on, they keep building.

CW:So, you were telling me about -- that you had gotten the announcement that you should report to Warsaw.

GR:Oh, right. That's the point I wanted to pursue -- I took the train to -- oh, 56:00I can even go back, okay -- I took the train to Warsaw through the night, on my own, know no Polish. I could say in Polish, "I don't speak Polish, but I speak German and English." That phrase I knew in Polish. And at the station in Warsaw, I was picked up by a representative of the Movement, and we went to a place called Otwock -- O-t-w-o-c-k, pronounced in Polish, Otwock. And that was our camp to prepare us for the trip and life in England. And as a sort of a side 57:00trip, they took us to the renowned rabbi of Poland. I think his name was Rabbi Schneersohn -- I'm not sure anymore. And he was interested in talking to us. And before we left, we got a little trinket, something. And I got a Tanakh in a case with a zipper. It was very unusual. So, this is where I spent -- and then came the time for us to leave. That was August 1939. Poland was getting ready for 58:00war, because Germany was threatening all the time, and looking for excuses to invade. And as we left Otwock by way of Warsaw, up to Gdynia, which was the only Baltic seaport of Poland, we saw soldiers all over the place -- uniform -- and trucks. And we were getting plenty anxious. But we didn't waste our time in Gdynia; we went straight on board. That was the last ship that left.

CW:Can you tell me a little bit about the group? Were there any other children 59:00that you knew? Or what was the group --

GR:Not knew, but I got to know them. Just a bunch of boys. I don't know where they came from. There was one tall, good-looking boy -- all my age, all fourteen -- and he thought that England would be a wonderful place to go to so that he could sow his wild oats. I thought, Oh my God, I better hook up with him. Okay. And so, once we got on board, the ship's captain didn't trust the Germans, and 60:00he took a shortcut -- and this is where I lose people, because they may not know the geography up there -- but we went through the Baltic to Kattegat and Skagerrak, and these are the waters that separate the Baltic from the North Sea, and these are the waters between Denmark and Sweden and Denmark and Norway. Now, he could have saved himself at least three days of sea voyage by going through the Kiel Canal that cuts through part of Germany, north Germany, but no, he didn't think that he would risk that. And that saved our lives. That was good. And I came so to London. And my foster parents were there to meet me. Now, the 61:00Kindertransport, which was organized by the Refugee Children's Movement, went about this way. Right after Kristallnacht, some ministers in the English Parliament asked that refugees be admitted to the country. And after a lot of wrangling, a law was passed that they would accept refugee children, provided they won't be a burden to the government, and provided they are temporary only. Then, with that law established, these good people went about collecting names 62:00of families that would be foster parents to the children, and some group homes. Fortunately, there was a family, a Jewish family, first-generation immigrant, in Cardiff, Wales. And they vouched for me. So, these people came -- Mr. and Mrs. Korne by name, with an E on the end -- meet me in London, and by this time, my guts gave out, and in the car, I deposited all my undigested food. I was that --- (pauses) crazy. Okay. So, we then took the train to Cardiff. Mrs. Korne, who 63:00was a strong woman running the household, said, "There's no time to be lost." That was August twenty-nine. September the first, three days later, Hitler invaded Poland, and three days later, England and France said, We declare war on you. So, that was how I got to England. Well, with Hitler succeeding in his 64:00blitzkrieg, he made a deal with Stalin to divide Poland. This was for strategic purposes. Hitler took the western half and Stalin took the eastern half, and the border was at Lwów; Lwów was just on the Russian border. As soon as they fully occupied the country, which only took two weeks -- and my parents were in Lwów, in their home. And I was able to write to them, and they wrote to me. They wrote to me when I was in Otwock, in the camp, prior to my trip to England, and they 65:00wrote to me in Cardiff. And they wrote to me in London, because I stayed with my folks only two years, and I wanted to continue my education and make a life for myself and went to London. I was sixteen-and-a-half years old. But I had a brother in London, the oldest brother who had the connection with London.

CW:Sam?

GR:He wasn't very instrumental, but at least I had somebody there. Now, let me see what I should pursue at this point, unless -- I'll take your questions, if you have some.

CW:Sure. I do. Well, there are a couple of things. One, do you have any sense of 66:00how your -- I mean, your mother -- you said she sort of pushed people out of the home and saw the writing on the wall.

GR:Right.

CR:Was there anything in particular -- I mean, when we look back now, we can sort of see the history laid out as what happens next, but I'm wondering if you have any insight into how she -- why she had this foresight.

GR:I see, I see. You're asking for her motiva-- not her motivation, but how can somebody take such an ultimate step in pushing her children away, whom she may never see again, just to save their lives? I think that part of her character 67:00was suffering. I thought of her when I could make judgments of her as a martyr. When she had to work from early morning to late at night -- without stop -- she never had vacation; she never traveled; she never took time off. And yet, she had time to visit an old person in an old person home in Hamburg. And she had 68:00time to welcome friends and relatives in our house. I think she was the eldest of her family; she was brought up to serve others. She never asked for anything for herself. She ate very often what we left over on the table -- not that she had to. To this day, I have to overcome something in order to throw out some old bread, and I'm very conscious of wasting things. What else is her personality? 69:00She was devoted to the children, but not in the sense in which most people might take -- namely, over-mothering. There was no opportunity to over-mother (laughter) nine kids.

CR:Right. (laughs)

GR:But they were important to her, and they were her immortality. I was, I think, closest to her, because I was the youngest, and she probably got some relief knowing that she wouldn't bear any more children. And maybe I helped out, because as a kid, I slept between my mother and my father in their bed, because 70:00there was no place else where I could -- I didn't have a room for myself. Now, let me take you back for a little episode in Poland.

CR:Please.

GR:In order for me to make the trip to Warsaw and further to London, we needed to have money. And fortunately, the Jewish community or the Refugee Children's Movement provided the money. So, we were all in Lwów -- my father had to pick up the money, and went wherever he needed to go. The only thing is, he was what we call in Yiddish a "khevre-man." He loved to be with people and talk and joke 71:00and drink a little bronfn [liquor]. So, he did, on the way home. And he reached for the money, and it was gone. That was for my trip to freedom. He got, naturally, very anxious, but he mingled with andere yidn [other Jews], and they told him, Look, you know, there are pickpockets around here. They're organized. You need to go to the head of the gang of pickpockets. Doesn't that remind you of "Oliver Twist"? Which he did, and this is too strange to be believed. The 72:00head ganev [thief] called his ganeyvem and said, "Look, we don't take from a plit, a refugee. You better come forward and give this stuff back." He came forward, gave my father the money back, and -- what else? A pen and glasses that he had in his pocket -- he didn't even miss. So, thank God, he had the money, and it was a happy ending. I mean, that I could go. Not so much that this was my goodbye to my parents and to Betti. I have quite the story of my life in Great Britain.

CW:Can I ask you first about the -- maybe it's related -- about the correspondence that you had with your family during that time?

GR:Yes. Yes. I have finished translating them and organizing them, and I'm going to tie them together in some way. They wrote to me, for the most part, cards, because they could easily be censored, in German -- and once in Yiddish, the card I showed you, where my mother for some strange reason said she would like to write to me in Yiddish, which happened to be the last thing I got from her. When I was in camp Otwock, near Warsaw, waiting to go to England, they wrote, 74:00and since I don't have copies of my letters -- not to mention the originals -- I had to infer what I wrote to them, because they responded. I was unhappy. I complained about having to itch a lot. And I complained about not knowing what to do with my dirty laundry. And I was worried about a haircut that they said they would -- I would have -- very short -- maybe lice. Because in that 75:00correspondence, my mother, for the most part, and Betti were saying, Look, the hair will grow. Other kids have their hair cut, too. About the scratching and the itching, they said, Well, why don't you go to the person in charge of the camp and see what they can do by way of some balm? If they permit it, why don't you get your dirty laundry together and have it sent to us, and we'll send you back clean clothes. That was the content. But reading between the lines, I see that their love was tucked in, and their concern about me and my future was 76:00tucked in. There was, of course, also a line here or there where my mother said that she misses me terribly. And my father said occasionally -- he would just add a word or two about, Good luck to your future, and I hope that you do well, and blah blah blah. He did not write to me in Yiddish. I think I need a straitjacket -- to keep my --

CW:No, it's fine --

GR:-- hands --

CW:-- it's just --

GR:Okay.

CW:It's just touching the microphone. Not to worry. (laughs)

GR:Yeah. Oh, I see. Oh, I see.

CW:(laughs) Yeah.

GR:Okay.

CW:Well, I want to just ask, if you don't mind, a couple of different questions.

GR:Sure.

CW:I'm wondering about this -- something that you told me earlier, about this idea that you don't feel like you're a survivor.

GR:Yes. Horrible and traumatic as the forced deportation was, and the life on the border, in no man's land, it turned to have a silver lining for me: that I got out of Germany. If we had not been deported, there's absolutely no doubt that we would have been sent to a death camp in Germany. So, that was the saving 78:00grace for me. But I never had to go through a concentration camp or a death camp. And in deference to those who do, I think the word "survivor" ought to be limited to them. My survival was -- as traumatic as it was, it was not as harrowing. Once I got to Poland, and from Poland to England, I was no longer in any danger. Even living in the border town -- or village -- in Poland for nine 79:00months, the life -- we were not in danger of our lives -- not really, because we were in Poland. So, I don't think I really earned that epithet, that I'm a survivor. I'm a refugee. And I always considered myself a refugee. But I might say this: regarding my identity, I never had any trouble with my identity. I was, and am, anytime, anywhere, a Jew. And let me tell you what reinforced that. When I went back to Hamburg, I met up with a whole group of former residents of 80:00Hamburg -- that's a good way of putting it -- because they all got out with a Kindertransport to England. They didn't have to go to Poland or anywhere. And we stayed together for a whole week, and we got to know each other. And one moment, we had to tell our story to the group, so they got to know our stories. All right. One woman asked me, "I heard you say that after you grew up in Hamburg, you were expelled to Poland, went through no man's land, and then you came to England -- Wales in England -- and then you came to the States. Tell me, how did you manage to maintain your identity?" I said, "No problem. Wherever I went, I 81:00was a Jew." I was Polish in Germany -- by nationality -- because I took my nationality after the parents, not after where I was born. I was viewed as German in Poland, as a refugee, though that didn't really matter. That I was a Jew was enough to put me in a category. When I arrived in England, I was stateless. When I came to this country, I was stateless. But by virtue of my having served in the US Army in Korea, I became a naturalized citizen very quickly -- didn't have to wait out five years. So, with my Orthodox home and my 82:00travels, I was either regarded as a Jew -- let me put it this way -- known as a Jew -- and where even I wasn't known as a Jew, I was still Jewish. I have no trouble with that.

CW:And for yourself, what are the particular values or parts of the Jewish culture that are particularly important to you?

GR:Brotherhood. I often meet up -- strange places with other Jews, and I literally feel a member of a family. I feel very comfortable with any Jews, 83:00wherever they are. I feel comfortable with non-Jews, too, but it's not the same. It's not a matter of family. I feel at ease, as you can see, but not family. That is the most important -- family and this kind of brotherhood. I feel very strongly that we are a community-based group of people, and that we have to balance our community-mindedness with the development of ourselves individually. 84:00These are the messages that I gave to my grandchildren at each of their bar or bat mitzvahs. They need to have an internal sense of their Jewishness. They don't have to be Orthodox, but they need to know that they are one of a -- a link in a chain. And in order to do that, they need to be familiar with Jewish culture, which starts with Jewish education, and which must go on at some time later. A lot of kids leave it at -- but now I'm lecturing.

CW:That's okay.

GR:And -- that's the value. The value has always been -- empathy, and learning, and whatever is humane -- to me, is part of being Jewish -- and maybe part of others, as well.

CW:Well, I have a few questions about Yiddish that I'd like to ask, but I'd like to allow you, if you'd like, to tell me about what you know about your -- what you heard about your parents and sister through that correspondence.

GR:Yeah.

CW:Was there anything you could surmise from what they were saying, despite the censorship?

GR:I know that the letters were censored. And I have those. I heard from them 86:00while they were still in the Soviet territory, just on the border with Nazi-occupied Poland. Now, the Nazis invaded Soviet-occupied Poland in '41, and Lwów was the first town they captured, I think maybe the very same day that they crossed the border. I never heard from them again. I tried to find out, contacting various agencies, but no point. I couldn't get anywhere. 'Cause there was no postal service at that time, and the Swedish consulate couldn't help, and 87:00-- who else did I try? The English chief rabbi couldn't help. There was no point. Later, I went to this book, "The Destruction of European Jewry" -- extremely detailed -- and learned that, indeed, the Einsatzgruppen came. Let's see. Where was I?

CW:You were saying that in the book, "The Destruction of European Jewry" --

GR:Yeah. There, I found out what happened to the (UNCLEAR). They were all shipped off to Belsen.

CW:Well, I know there's much more I would like to ask about, but --

GR:Okay. How I took it from there.

CW:I'd like to ask a question about language.

GR:Oh, yes. Yes. Yiddish.

CW:Because I know that -- you told me that you spoke German and Yiddish in your --

GR:Yes.

CW:-- home growing up. And how, if at all, has language -- both, you know, knowing these languages, and then adding on English, as well -- influenced your sense of identity?

GR:It strengthened it, certainly. Because I can converse. I'm not terribly fluent in Yiddish, but when I can speak Yiddish, it's a mekhaye [delight]. Let's see. I once made a trip to near Madison and stayed in a hotel, and there were 89:00some ultra-Orthodox people there, with peyes [sidelocks] and a sheytl [traditional women's head covering] and everything, and I started a conversation with Yiddish. And I was thrilled. I went with my daughter at that time, I told her all about it, and I told others, "Look whom I met in such a distant place." Nobody would think -- no Hasid would think of going there, but I found them there. Or when I -- on the trip coming to the States, we stopped for just a little bit at a port up the coast -- Halifax -- Halifax, Nova Scotia. And I went ashore, and I walked through the streets, and there was a store. And the storekeeper was just standing outside, waiting for customers to come by, and he 90:00happened to be Jewish. And we spoke in Yiddish, although -- you could have spoken in English, as well, 'cause it's an English territory. But it does something to me. It touches on a nerve that says, This, you're familiar with. This is like home. Yeah. Now, my Yiddish is a terrible German Yiddish, because my parents' Yiddish -- at least as I glean from the correspondence -- was a German Yiddish. Now, what does that mean? That means that the syntax and sometimes the vocabulary was German, as distinct from the Polish Yiddish, which 91:00I think is much more genuine and has -- I like it better. I like it more. Now, I have a friend in California who is a Yiddish teacher, and I correspond with him, and although we do it in English, I never fail to write a few lines in Yiddish, as well. So, that's very much part of my personality. Wonderful language.

CW:I wanted to also ask you -- I know we don't have much time, but -- about this relative who wrote -- who you discovered at some point, Natan Fruchter, who 92:00wrote some Yiddish books.

GR:Oh, yes.

CW:How did you find that out?

GR:That's an interesting thing. I've been in touch with the Yiddish Book Center ever since its beginning. And one of their stories, which was part of their appeal for funds, of course, was that they have managed to get ahold of lots of Yiddish books in Buenos Aires. And that set me to thinking, because my mother's brother, and also my brother's sister -- they both went to Buenos Aires; they managed to get out to Buenos Aires. We were deported -- I think they must have 93:00gotten out just in time before they came to deport us. Otherwise, they would have been deported, too -- Polish Jews in Hamburg. Because I remember that my mother's brother, whose name was Natan Fruchter -- my mother's maiden name -- was a journalist and became a writer and then an author. And that's all I knew. In Buenos Aires. I haven't been in touch with that part of the family at all; I left it to my older siblings. And so, I investigated. I contacted the Yiddish Center and said that, I think my uncle has published some books, and maybe they 94:00are among the lot that you've got. And I got the answer: Yes, indeed. Not only do they have the two-volume story of the history of Argentina in Yiddish, but they also have a children's book in Yiddish that he wrote. And so, I said, "Gee, that's fine." And they were already in the position of producing books from the originals, by some technical procedure. I have them right here. And my uncle's picture is even in there. So, I'm very fond of that. About a couple of years ago, also, I got a telephone call from Buenos Aires. I've not been in touch at 95:00all. And my cousin's granddaughter called. I have not heard from my cousin for all those years -- what are they, maybe fifty or so years. And she's, of course, old, and she was ailing, and she wanted to hear from me, because her granddaughter, who knows some English, was able to trace me on the internet. And that was a remarkable (laughs) experience. I was in heaven. I had to get down to earth again. It brought -- I thought of them as survivors. They are no more survivors -- well, survivors they are, but certainly -- no, wait a minute -- 96:00they are not survivors; they are immigrants. So, yeah. Maybe another time I can -- well, this might be a good way to end the interview, if you like --

CW:Okay.

GR:-- though I'm open to questions. Time came -- a year after the end of World War II, 1946 -- that I got notice that my stay in England was only temporary. You can go now. Thank you. Fortunately, it so happened that my brother here in Chicago had, with my uncle's help, made out papers for me to come to the States. 97:00And my sister in Israel managed to make out the papers for what they called a certificate -- I can come to Israel. I had a choice to make. I was told that if I forgo my certificate and the number of -- there are just a small number of people that were allowed into Palestine at the time -- then there would be room for one refugee on the continent to get out to Palestine. And I had the opportunity to come to the States, and I chose that. Though in much of my younger life, I had always dreamed of Israel -- going there -- and the youth camp. It didn't turn out that way. But I've gone to Israel many times since to 98:00see the family, and they have been fruitful, and they've multiplied many times. Wonderful family. Now, what I have not had a chance to tell you is, the war years in England, I worked and I studied, and I got my matriculation to the University of London, and with that paper, I was accepted here in this country -- for Roosevelt College at the time -- now it's Roosevelt University. And after that, I went through the University of Chicago and got my doctor's degree. And I've been practicing as a clinical psychologist for over forty years and have 99:00been retired now for five -- because that is when my wife died. I met her in Chicago, a Jewish girl from immigrant Jewish Romanian parents -- also a U of C graduate -- and a clinical social worker. And we worked together. And we had a wonderful fifty-one years together. And I'm very happy with the family -- tremendously supportive and loving. I have no complaints. I lead a good life. And I hope that my daughter and her family and my son and his family -- that, 100:00I'm sure of -- will continue the same way.

CW:Well, is there any advice or a message that you would like to leave for future generations?

GR:I've often thought about that. There are no real words of wisdom that I can give. Probably, they themselves hold on to something that I might have said at some time. However, when I'm obliged to find something, then it is the advice: Mark the writing on the wall. Mark the writing on the wall. Because if we live 101:00an ordinary, peaceful life, we will never acknowledge the dark side of man, and we won't take seriously threats. So, I'm not saying that, God forbid, America will have virulent, violent anti-Semitism. I don't anticipate that. But you need to be aware of what is happening in this world, particularly what's happening to Jewish people. So, if there is a threat, if there is a danger of -- even if 102:00there's a danger of Jewish disappearance by intermarriage and by falling off of attendance, they should rally -- and maintain the Jewish culture. Other things, I just hope that they will cope with the future, because I'm -- at heart, I'm not an optimist.

CW:Well, I want to say a hartsikn dank -- thank you very much --

GR:Um-hm.

CW:-- for sharing your story. And I'm sure there's much more we could talk 103:00about, but I really appreciate you making the time for this. And --

GR:Okay.

CW:-- for sharing your story with me and with the project.

[END OF INTERVIEW]