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Posts Tagged ‘United States Holocaust Memorial Museum’

The Story with Dick Gordon -SB and CWThe Story with Dick Gordon.

Steve Barry and Carrol Walsh did an interview with Dick Gordon of American Public Media for National Public Radio. It was broadcast, appropriately, on Memorial Day. Very well done and very powerful.

You can read the previous post for  more information and links.

You can go to the link here to listen in.    For Memorial Day: A Special Reunion

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(originally posted November, 2007)…are one in the same person! Had a great lesson 4th block today.Steve Barry 1945, 2008

My high school seniors and I were treated to a wonderful interview with Mr. Steve Barry, 83, of Florida, who graphically described his liberation from that train nearly 63 years ago. He said “The South Florida Sun-Sentinel published an article titled “Vet unites with 3 death train survivors” Needless to say I was in a state of shock, and to some degree I still am, to find out after all the years, that the event burned in to my soul for all eternity, is shared with a lot of other people.” He went on to relate to my students and I the account of his ordeal and liberation, his emigration to the United States and his experience in becoming the “happiest Korean War draftee”, who ironically served his adopted country as a US Army Ranger in Germany.

His written account of his meeting with his liberator Carrol Walsh follows:

SOMETIMES THE FACTS OF REALITY DWARF THE WILDEST FICTION.

NOTE* The story continues…Steve, a Hungarian Jew, lives in Florida is one of the 13 latest survivors to see the Associated Press article on our reunion and contact us. (*now 60+ survivors) He was 21 at time of liberation and remembers a mobile SS death squad setting up their guns near the train. The people refused to get out of the boxcars as everyone knew the Americans were nearby…

My odds to meet, after 62 years, one of the brave soldiers who came across “ That Train Near Magdeburg” on April 13, 1945 was less then nil. I beat those odds and managed to survive and preserve my body and sanity.

Carrol Walsh fought his way from Normandy to the Battle of the Bulge and to the Elbe River earning five well-deserved battle stars. For him, coming upon that train and a mass of emaciated, skeletal men, women and children was only one of many sad episodes of the war. Little did he realize it then that to me and countless other survivors he became an ICON rekindling our faith in human kindness. He became our LIBERATOR and will always remain that.


As it was prearranged on November 3, 2007, after picking up my daughter Barbara at the Tampa airport, (she flew in from Baltimore just for the occasion, traveling with my daughter Jamie and son-in-law Jerry, drove to the home of the Walsh’s in New Port Richey, FL. Carrol and his wife Dorothy stood at the driveway waiting for us.


I walked over to Carrol, shook his hand and we embraced, then I proceeded to kiss Dorothy. My entire family followed my example. Later after our meeting came to a conclusion, Carrol and I both felt like two old friends meeting after many years.


Inside, the table was set for coffee and tea and assorted snacks. We decided that it was more important first to engage in conversation, reminiscing about the discovery of the train and the aftermath. It was sort of a Q & E. Then we talked about our lives after the war. We learned that Carrol became a State Supreme Court Justice. We exchange some pictures and observed a wonderful photo of the Walsh’s large, attractive family.


During conversation it was discovered that Carrol’s grandson, Sean, attends G. W. University just as my granddaughter Amanda does.


Meeting Carrol and Dorothy Walsh is one of my most treasured experiences. They are, without a doubt, the sweetest, warmest and kindest people I have met. Meeting Carrol was dream come through and I especially enjoyed his boundless sense of humor.

Dear friends, Carrol and Dorothy, you restored some of my faith in humanity and I never, ever will forget the privilege to know you and call you my friends.

Steve

Boca Raton, FL 11/04/2007


P. S. Yes, there are Angels but they have no wings; we call them FRIENDS.

“Red” Walsh to Steve: “You don’t owe us – we owe you! We can never repay you and the Jewish people of Europe what was stolen from you – your homes, your possessions, your businesses, your money, your art, your family life, your families, your childhood, your dreams and all your lives.

The least I and the other American soldiers could do was to eliminate such people as the Nazis and their armies and their police and leaders … doing what we were morally obligated to do.”

PLEASE VISIT “ABOUT THIS WEBLOG” FOR INFORMATION ON THE HIGH SCHOOL PROJECT THAT BROUGHT CARROL AND STEVE TOGETHER…

READ THE ORIGINAL INTERVIEW WITH CARROL WALSH

HEAR THE TWO TANK COMMANDERS DESCRIBE THE LIBERATION 9:32

SEE CARROL’S MEETING WITH SURVIVOR FRED SPIEGEL 3:12

Contact the teacher, Matthew Rozell, at marozell@hfcsd.org


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last-battleI received this email while I was at the last liberator-survivor reunion.

March 27th, 2009.

“Dear Mr. Rozell,

My father was a medical officer with the 30th Infantry.  It is astounding to me that I saw the article just now in the NY Times on line, and this week will be my father’s 20th Yahrzeit (anniversary of his death).  Cornelius Ryan interviewed him for the book The Last Battle. On page 329 of that book he wrote:

“The psychological effect of the camps on officers and men was beyond assessment.  On the Ninth Army front in a village near Magdeburg, Major Julius Rock, a medical officer with the 30th Infantry, came up to inspect a freight train which the 30th had stopped.  It was loaded with concentration camp inmates.  Rock, horrified, immediately unloaded the train.  Over the local burgomaster’s vehement protests, Rock billeted the inmates in German homes–but not until his battalion commander had given a crisp command to the complaining burgomaster. “If you refuse,”he said simply, “I’ll take hostages and shoot them.”

After the book was published, my father received a letter from a Connecticut woman who had been a child on that train, along with her mother.  Dad had never spoken about this to me, but he began to talk about it.  He talked about the strict orders given about how to feed the liberated survivors; he said that only rice water was to be given for the first several days.  I understand that in other places many survivors died in similar situations from gastro-intestinal shutdown from being overfed.

All of my father’s maps and pictures are archived in the Jewish War Veterans’ Museum in Washington, D.C.  I do have some photocopies of some of the pictures, including, I believe, the train.

Thank you for keeping alive this outstanding testimony to the heroism of these brave soldiers, survivors and physicians.”

I’m heading to Washington this summer to conduct more research at the Holocaust Museum and to see Rock’s documents at the Jewish War Veterans’ Museum. I have  located the woman in CT that this writer speaks of, as well as 60 or so other child survivors. Actually, she located me almost 2 years ago, and now Rock’s daughter has found me.

And to find this information in a major work that was published 4 decades ago is amazing to me. I asked the school librarian to see if we had it yesterday. He handed me a first edition that had not circulated since 1978! It is chock full of references to the 30th Infantry Division, and in the back I even found in his list of interviewees  a 30th ID vet from Hudson Falls, NY, our own town! I’ll be chasing down that lead, you can be sure.

Post Script: I was very lucky to find author Cornelius Ryan’s (The Longest DayThe Last Battle, A Bridge Too Far”) daughter as well. He passed away in 1974. When the star studded film “A Bridge Too Far” came out, I remember it was one of the rare moments in high school when my father and I did something together and went to see the film at the local cinema (and I remember it vividly- we both commented how much our butts hurt from sitting for three hours in the uncomfortable chairs, but it was still a father-teenage son moment).

I also called the widow of the 30th Infantry Division veteran that Ryan interviewed for the book from our own small town- he passed away the same year as Ryan, 35 years ago. But his widow remembered the interview well. Now I’m off in search of additional liberators of the train in Ryan’s notes with his archivist in Ohio.

Mr Ryan’s daughter wrote to me a few nights ago (Mr. Ryan was born in Dublin, went to England, and served as a war correspondent before settling in the US):

“This is really a amazing series of events.. Strange, I was watching Schindler’s List on HBO last night and I was so moved by the ending when the living survivors paid tribute to him at his headstone. I guess I will never be able to “get my head around” what happened to the Jewish people and man’s inhumanity to man.
cornelius-ryan
You have certainly touched on a special person in my life, my father. Oh how he would have loved to have heard this. I can just imagine him putting on his high British accent (something he learned to do when he went to England at 19 years old. Apparently having an Irish brogue was not synonymous with being particularly learned.). Anyway, he would have loved this new information and the fact you have located the woman in CT and so many other child survivors. I am pretty sure he would have been thrilled. While I know that my father was quite able to be true to the specific “facts”, I believe what interested him the most were the people. He used to say that the “major players” had plenty of notoriety and any “Tom, Dick or Harry could write about those poor bastards.” But he believed, it was the “little people, caught up in the tragedy of war” who had the real stories to tell. And once again, he was right.”

Cornelius Ryan was the rock star amongst U.S. WWII historians. To find these references in his book and to be in contact with his family… she concluded with:

“How great of you to send me news of this. There are really no coincidences…..these interlocking series of events were all truly too remarkable…Seems to me that someone is hollering at you to follow your dream. “

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Martin Spett, "The Ashes"

I was the guest speaker at a local temple this evening. It was a beautiful ceremony of remembrance, with music and song…. I may have been the only non-Jew there and I was the honored guest.

Honored guest!

I kept biting my lip and hoping I would not lose it, or cry, when it was my turn to speak. And then it dawns on me… the last time I got really emotional about all this was at the same time last year, sitting in the temple, participating in the service and waiting for the cue. Sometimes I wonder how I manage to hold it all together… and I know it’s because I do not force myself to slow down and think about it all.

Why is this happening to me? How can I be so blessed as to be a conduit between survivors and their new found liberators, the American soldiers responsible for the lives and the families that they have created over the past 64 years? Why do these new coincidences and miracles, these amazing  people with stories of tragedy and triumph, of survival against the odds, keep coming to my inbox or telephone, without solicitation? Why do these amazing, interconnected and intertwining  threads seem almost to be weaving themselves into a tapestry of unfolding time?  In the end, I can’t go there. How can I? Just let it be, just let it unfold, I tell myself.

We slowly recite the names: Belsen, Sobibor, Belzec, Buchenwald, Dachau, Treblinka, Chelmno, Auschwitz…, read the poems of destruction and the prayers of hope, and wonder about the redemption of the human race. The Kaddish, the prayer for the dead, is said.

It was touch and go for me for a little while. In the end, I did fine. Folks were very thankful and kept coming up to me after the service. A very nice lady came up and proudly insisted that she was my fourth grade teacher, though I don’t think that she was.

I told the congregation of my work and the work of my colleagues with the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. And I informed them of the death of our liberator Dr. George C.  Gross. I read to them the eyewitness liberator account that I received out of the blue on March 11th, and told them of our recent reunion and our plans for one final upcoming reunion between liberators and many survivors.

At the very end, a beautiful older woman approached me as I left the temple and told me that before her conversion to Judaism 15 years ago, she had never been taught about the Holocaust and knew very little of it…then, as she made small talk and I was contemplating my exit strategy, she touched me,  held my hand and stroked my arm warmly, and told me that I was blessed, and that I had a special place in heaven. God himself is preparing a special place. But not too soon, I try to joke.

The greatest crime in the history of the world. And I guess my own personal responsibility is to try to keep the memory alive, because it will fade as our liberators and survivors pass on.

But not too soon, I hope.

Painting: Martin Spett, The Ashes”

Each mound of victims’ ashes represents a different concentration camp. A traditional depiction of Death hovers over the six inmates of a camp who represent the six-million Jewish casualties during the Holocaust. On the left foreground is the exhortation: “Remember” in six languages.
Martin Spett was liberated on the train near Magdeburg.

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Liberators and Holocaust Survivors Reunited-World War II Living History ProjectSurvivors, (seated) 30th Infantry Division, Matthew Rozell. 3-27-09.

Survivors, (seated) 30th Infantry Division, Matthew Rozell. 3-27-09.

‘They were our angels’

Reunion sparks memories of Nazi prisoners’ train trip to freedom

By Schuyler Kropf, The Charleston Post and Courier

Saturday, March 28, 2009

They were teenaged G.I.s, happy that World War II was winding down and that they’d survived. But the story of what happened that April morning in 1945 still lingers.

It involved a train shuffling 2,500 Jews from one death camp to another as the Nazis tried to hide their crimes. But with American units approaching, the German guards had no choice but to strip off their uniforms and flee, abandoning their human cargo near a forest.

Luckily for 5-year-old Dutch Jew John Fransman, and the other riders of the liberation train, the U.S. Army showed up a few hours later. He remembers his mother’s body language changing when the soldiers came into view.

“It was transmitted that this was good, that we were being rescued,” said Fransman, now 64, of London.

For decades the tale of the liberation train was a forgotten chapter of World War II. But Friday in North Charleston, surviving members of the

Army’s 30th Infantry Division returned for a reunion that brought the story back.

Most of the U.S. troops who were there for the train rescue, near Magdeburg in northeastern Germany, have died. But seven of the train’s riders – who in 1945 were teens and children assigned to the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp – have come in from all over the world.

Hungarian-born Jews Stephen Barry, 84, and Robert Spitz, 79, both lived in Budapest before the war and were sent to Bergen-Belsen, later surviving the train ride. But they’d never met before Friday, with Spitz coming in from Raleigh, N.C., and Barry from Boca Raton, Fla. “Ten minutes ago,” Spitz said of their new friendship.

Much of the train story came to light only in the last few years, including after history teacher Matthew Rozell of Hudson Falls, N.Y., got his students involved in World War II histories, sparking an Internet flurry of interest among survivors, soldiers and family members.

As the tale goes, the month of April 1945 was marked by a general collapse in Germany. The Nazis began shuffling prisoners around in movements that seemingly had no clear destinations. But on the fifth or sixth day of travel for the Bergen-Belsen prisoners, all movement stopped, with the train parked alongside a wooded ravine and the German guards in distress. The emaciated prisoners, many sick with typhoid and infested by “10 million lice” Spitz said, stood by waiting for something to happen.

Barry remembers German SS troops on horseback trying to push everyone out of the cars, movements that were physically impossible for some. The troops finally gave up and rode off, only to return an hour later – a signal Barry took to mean they were surrounded. Hours later, units of the American 30th Infantry began moving in.

“They were our angels,” said Ariela Rojek, 75, a train rider who emigrated to Canada after the war. She remembers the strange looks on the faces of war-hardened G.I.s who weren’t used to seeing atrocities against civilians. “They weren’t prepared,” she said.

One American who remembers the refugees was Frank Towers, a 26-year-old Army lieutenant whose job included rounding up dozens of trucks and finding beds for the survivors in nearby villages.

Until then, he didn’t fully appreciate the anti-German soldier propaganda he’d seen. “The German people weren’t these kinds of monsters,” he’d thought before finding the train riders.

For the survivors, rescue marked the start of a long road of recovery, searching for relatives and starting new lives. But Barry still remembers one moment after his rescue when he sat by a campfire wearing a German SS soldier’s coat that he’d found to keep warm. An American G.I. came up to him, pulled out a pocket knife and cut the SS emblems off the jacket, dropping them in the fire.

“He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have to,” Barry recalled, as the reality of his new life of freedom set in.
Copyright © 1995 – 2009 Evening Post Publishing Co.

NOTE: This newspaper did a fine article and has some video which you may be able to view here.

LINK TO ASSOCIATED PRESS ARTICLE/PHOTOGRAPHS

LINK TO LOCAL NEWS VIDEO/STORY

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By Blanca Gonzalez
STAFF WRITER

San Diego Tribune

February 18, 2009

George C. Gross was known locally as a scholar who inspired high school and college students to care about Chaucer, Keats and other academic pursuits.

Throughout the world, others knew him as a symbol of American liberators who played a role in the lives of Holocaust camp survivors.

Dr. Gross died of anemia Feb. 1 at his home in Spring Valley. He was 86.

More than half a century after World War II ended, Dr. Gross was asked to tell his story to Matthew Rozell, a Hudson Falls, N.Y., high school teacher who coordinates a World War II living history project and Web site. Rozell had heard about Dr. Gross from another veteran involved in the project.

In a narrative posted on the project Web site, Dr. Gross told of being among the first U.S. servicemen to come across about 2,500 people the Nazis had stuffed into a string of boxcars.

It was April 1945 and World War II was coming to an end in Europe. Dr. Gross was a sergeant commanding a light tank moving toward Magdeburg, Germany, as part of a tank battalion in the 30th Infantry Division of the U.S. Army. The battalion had just finished a grueling three weeks of fighting across Germany when it came across some emaciated Finnish soldiers who had escaped from a nearby train full of starving prisoners.

Dr. Gross and fellow sergeant Carrol Walsh accompanied the battalion major to a small train station where they discovered a mass of people, some sitting or lying outside the train and others still in the boxcars. It is believed their German guards ran away as the U.S. tanks rumbled in.

The train contained Jewish prisoners who had been taken from Bergen-Belsen and forced into the cramped boxcars. Dr. Gross, Walsh and the major greeted survivors and took pictures of them, capturing their surprise and joy.

“I was assigned to stay overnight with the train,” Dr. Gross wrote years later, “to let any stray German soldiers know that it was part of the free world and not to be bothered again. I was honored to shake the hands of the large numbers (of survivors) who spontaneously lined up to introduce themselves and greet me in a ritual that seemed to satisfy their need to declare their return to honored membership in the free society of humanity.

“The heroism that day was all with the prisoners on the train,” Dr. Gross wrote. “What stamina and regenerative spirit those brave people showed. I have one picture of several girls, specter-thin, hollow-cheeked, with enormous eyes that had seen much evil and terror, and yet with smiles to break one’s heart.”

His pictures were posted on the history Web site and sparked reunions and phone calls between survivors from around the world and between Dr. Gross and Walsh, a retired judge living in Hudson Falls.

Rozell said Dr. Gross was a very humble and gracious person. “He came from a generation that didn’t really trumpet their accomplishments,” he said.

Local friends and colleagues lauded Dr. Gross as a gentleman and a scholar who was fascinated by the language of Keats and Chaucer and enjoyed sharing that love with students.

Larry Durbin, a Grossmont High School graduate who became a close friend, said the class of 1958 made Dr. Gross an honorary classmate. “He was a pretty special guy. Chaucer’s English was very difficult to read and hard to listen to … but there he was, probably 36 or 37 years old, standing up in front of a class of 17-and 18-year-olds and getting them to be enthralled with Chaucer. At nearly every (class) reunion someone will start reciting ‘The Knight’s Tale’ (from Geoffrey Chaucer’s “The Canterbury Tales”) we learned in his class,” Durbin said.

“He was a sensitive, caring, warm guy and everybody liked him.”

Dr. Gross, who had boxed in the Army, served as adviser of the high school’s boxing club.

After teaching at Grossmont for about 10 years, Dr. Gross joined the San Diego State faculty in 1961. He was associate dean for faculty and dean of faculty affairs from 1970 to 1981 before returning to the classroom. He retired in 1985 but remained active on campus with the SDSU Honors Council.

Dr. Gross is remembered on campus as one of the great chairmen of the English and Comparative Literature department, said current Chairman Bill Nerricio. “Tales of his generosity and intellect still shadow the corridors of our department. His skills as a master teacher, gifted scholar and top-shelf administrator are a hard act to follow.”

George C. Gross was born May 14, 1922, in Wilmington to Ada Bachmann and Henry Gross. He graduated from Hoover High School and married his high school sweetheart, the former Marlo Mumma, in 1940. She died in 2006.

He earned his bachelor’s and master’s degrees in English literature from San Diego State and received his doctorate from the University of Southern California in the early 1960s.

Dr. Gross is survived by two sons, Tim of Lakeside and John of Spring Valley; a granddaughter; and two sisters, Hazel Lemmons of San Diego and Betty Desport of Texas.

A memorial service will be held at 10 a.m. March 7 at SDSU Aztec Center, Casa Real. Reservations can be made with Leslie Herrman at lherrman@mail.sdsu.edu or (619) 594-6337.

Donations may be made to the Campanile Foundation for the George C. Gross Memorial Fund benefiting the Department of English and Comparative Literature and Holocaust Studies, in the Department of History* or to the George Gross Memorial Scholarship at Grossmont High School.

*For those interested in donating a memorial gift, checks can be made out to The Campanile Foundation. Please note that donors should designate one of these options:

1) Designate the Department of English and Comparative Literature
2) Designate Holocaust Studies in the Department of History
3) Designate the “Memorial Fund” (60% English / 40% Holocaust Studies)

Checks can be mailed to:

SDSU, College of Arts & Letters
c/o Trina Hester
George C. Gross Memorial Fund
Arts and Letters, room 600
5500 Campanile Drive
San Diego, CA 92182-6060

You can also drop them off with staff in the Dean’s Development office, Arts and Letters 600. If someone wishes to use their credit card, please call Trina Hester at 619.594.1562.

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30th-patchThe next Annual Reunion of the 30th Infantry Division Veterans of WWII will be held on 26 – 29 March 2009, in Charleston, SC, at the Ramada Inn Charleston, located at 7401 Northwoods Blvd. just off of the #526 Expressway, in No. Charleston.

Hotel Reservation can be made at any time by calling: 1-843-572-2200

Program 2009

Ramada Inn, Charleston

Charleston, SC

26 – 29 March 2009

Wednesday 25 March

Early Registration 1:00 P.M. – 5:00 P.M.

Lobby

Thursday 26 March

Registration 9:00 A.M. – ?

Beauregard Room

Lunch On Own

Hospitality 1:00 P.M. – 6:30 P.M. Beauregard Room

Reception 7:00 P.M. – 8:30 P.M.

Beauregard Room

Hospitality 8:30 P.M. – 11:00 P.M.

Friday 27 March

Breakfast 6:30 A.M. – 8:30 A.M.

At your leisure in Atrium Restaurant

Memorial Service 10:00 A.M. – 11:30 A.M.

Laure/Caroline Room

Lunch in Hotel 12:00 Noon – 1:30 P.M.

Holocaust Survivors Presentation (more details to follow)

2:00 P.M. – 5:00 P.M.

Laure Room

Hospitality 4:30 P.M. – 6:30 P.M.

Beauregard Room

Dinner 7:00 P.M. – 8:30 P.M.

Armand Room

Hospitality 8:45 P.M. – 11:00 P.M.

Beauregard Room

Saturday 28 March 2009

Breakfast 6:30 A.M. – 8:30 A.M.

At your leisure in Atrium Restaurant

Business Mtg. 10:00 A.M. – 12:00 Noon

Laure Room

Lunch in Hotel 12:00 Noon– 1:30 P.M.

Holocaust Survivors Presentation (more details to follow)

2:00 P.M. – 4:30 P.M

Laure Room

Hospitality 1:00 P.M. – 5:00 P.M.

Beauregard Room

Banquet 7:00 P.M. – 9:30 P.M.

Armand Room

Dinner

Speaker

Raffle

Sunday 29 March 2008

Departures FINIS!!

Breakfast 6:30 A.M. – 8:30 A.M.

At your leisure in Atrium Restaurant

Rates are $79.00 per room, and include Free Hot Buffet Breakfast for 2 persons.

Complimentary Airport Shuttle to & from Hotel.

Contact:

Carolyn Ware, Reunion Chairperson at: 1-843-899-7082 or cware@co.berkeley.sc.us

Or

Frank W. Towers, President at: 1-352-485-1173 or towersfw@windstream.net

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The Museum today released the following statement:

The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum is deeply dismayed by the recent decision of the Vatican regarding the status within the Church of Richard Williamson, a Bishop of the Society of St. Pius X. Bishop Williamson’s statements denying the Holocaust are openly antisemitic and antithetical to the growing spirit of mutual respect that has characterized Catholic-Jewish relations for an entire generation since Vatican II. Holocaust denial is an insult to the victims and an affront to Catholics who rescued Jews. Pope John Paul II, who witnessed firsthand the horrors of the Holocaust in his native Poland, declared, “Antisemitism is a sin against God and humanity.” The recent action of the Vatican appears to lend legitimacy to Bishop Williamson’s opinions, official statements to the contrary notwithstanding.

During his recent visit to the United States, His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI accepted as a gift a menorah in memory of the 6 million Jews murdered in the Holocaust. The Museum calls upon Pope Benedict to make it clear that antisemitism and Holocaust denial have no standing in the Church and to publicly repudiate all forms of Holocaust denial and trivialization, whatever their source.

The Museum will continue to work together with Catholics who are committed to educating about the Holocaust and honoring the memory of its victims.

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Here is a link to a project we recently completed for the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington DC to help educators teach the Holocaust. It features the work of Kylie James, student, her song set to photographs collected by USHMM Fellow Sara Kollbaum and myself. It is four and a half minutes long. The song begins 30 seconds in.

Our school is proud that Pete Fredlake, the director of National Outreach for Teacher Initiatives at the USHMM’s National Institute for Holocaust Education has recognized this as an outstanding project. Kylie got a kick out of the fact that the teacher’s assignment was two months late!

Let us know what you think. The lyrics are included in the comments, below.

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Frank Towers and Ern Kan 3-08

Frank Towers, liberator (blue) and Ern Kan, survivor (gray), March, 2008. Rob Miller photo.

I received a Christmas greeting from Ernest Kan today.

It was about being thankful and appreciating what you have and counting your blessings. So I thought it appropriate to  share Ern’s story, which he told at the gathering of liberators and survivors last March.

“My odyssey began in Riga, Latvia where the Germans occupied our apartment on the first of July, 1941. Shortly thereafter we were put into the Riga ghetto. During the partial liquidation of the ghetto on November 30 and Dec 9. 1941, my mother was murdered with 27,000 other Jews in the forest of Rumbula.

The ghetto was finally liquidated in 1943.  My dad was shipped to Auschwitz where he perished and I, who was 20 at the time, was put into the concentration camp Kaiserwald near Riga. With the approach of the Soviet army in 1944, Kaiserwald was evacuated by ship and we were shipped to Stutthof concentration camp, after about a month to Polte in Magdeburg where I WAS LIBERATED.

I was 19 years old [at the time of imprisonment, held captive] altogether 44 months.

The name of the factory was Polte; it was the largest ammunition factory in Germany. [Conditions were very bad.] They had 30,000 slaves working there in shifts. It manufactured heavy artillery shells, big coastal artillery shells about 30 inches long. And we had to work in 12 hour shifts, they brought us there from a concentration camp Stutthof,  near Danzig, by freight train, it took about two nights, and we got there we didn’t know where we wound up, we were assigned to bunks in a barracks, and it was about a mile to walk from the factory and back. And that is where I was liberated in April 1945 by the 743rd US Tank Battalion. After an air raid by the United States [Army] Air Force, the camp was evacuated and they marched is southward because the south was still unoccupied by Allied forces. So they assembled the prisoners and marched them out of the camp, and we had to move a large wagon with spoke wheels, they had no more horses to pull the wagon, we were pulling and shoving the wagon with all the luggage and personal belongings of the guards.

So as when we passed that factory, Polte, me and three other guys, we ran into the open gate, the factory was already disabled-there was no more electricity, no water, no nothing, it couldn’t function anymore- [made] un-operational by air raids. So we ran and we hid, we changed our striped uniforms and we put on German overalls we found in a locker so we looked more or less human again, but we had no hair, the hair was shaved off. And we hid in an attic above the office …we stayed there one night, and in the morning four SS guards with drawn guns found us and said “Out you swines, hands up!” and marched us to the courtyard of the Polte factory, they had about 100 or so lined up with their hands up, and they came with little lorries, little trucks, that took groups of 10 away and returned within five to eight minutes empty for the next batch-so we knew they took them to the forest to shoot them and come for the next. And I thought that was the end of us, I was standing with my hands up and I said to the guy to my left, “this is it, we made it up until now” -and lo and behold, an air raid started! The United States [Army] Air Force, low flying bombers came, you could see the pilot’s eyes -that’s how low- they dropped the bomb load, [the guards] chased us in the adjacent air raid shelter, all the guys were at the wall in the air raid, they posted a guard in front of that door and as we walked in he said “I’m innocent, I never did you any harm.” He was an old, old man older than me today. So when I heard that, there was already music in my ears all of a sudden, I had never heard that from any guard to say something like that. So they locked the door and put a padlock on the out side. And you could hear the bombs falling and the smoke seeping through and it was chaos, we were singing inside and we were happy, praying the bombs should hit us and get us out of our misery, because by that point we were finished. So I leaned against the door and the door gives, so I don’t know to this very day whether the air pressure from falling bombs blew the lock off, it was a big padlock, or if the guard posted outside opened it up and took it away. At any rate the door was open, we all ran out scattered left, right and the 4 of us hid in an elevator shaft up above where the wheel is, and we waited until the air raid stopped and after about an hour we sent one guy out to reconnoiter what was happening, it was dead quiet. We didn’t know who was where and what was going on. So after about half an hour he came back with a big vat of soup, and he said (long pause, getting emotional) “Boys-we are free,-the Americans are here!”

That is a moment I can never forget.

The soup was lentil soup, it was delicious, I ate and ate until I threw up-we hadn’t eaten in so many days, and I then I saw the first American in a Jeep.  I had never seen an American, he looked like a Martian to me with different weaponry and a Jeep. And he says to me, “Hands up! You are German?” I said, “No, I am a Jewish prisoner from the local concentration camp” but by my haggard appearance he could see that I was certainly not an enemy. I was about 75 pounds at that point and it so happened that when I found the overalls in the German locker, I put on a belt I found there and it had a swastika locket which I didn’t realize, I put on the belt not to lose my pants and he saw the swastika on it and he assumed I was a German in overalls, so I told him I was from the local camp.

It so happened that he was a Jewish GI and he embraced me and he said “You are free now, you can go wherever you want” and he gave me a  an army issued prayer book, and a mezuzah, that is something like sort of an amulet that some people wear, it contains some proverbs from the Deuteronomy inside, and he said “Go!” In the heat of the moment I was unable to ask him where he came from, what his name was, and it bothers to this day that I could never express my gratitude to this one man, but all these guys here are my liberators and they represent this first American I ever saw and he gave us back our life and our freedom and I will never forget it.

There are no words to express my gratitude for what they have done for us and never in my vaguest dreams would I have thought to be here  65 years after the war is over and meet these guys again, that is unbelievable, it is a moment, an unforgettable moment in my life.”

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