A Compelling Tribute to a Family's Survival During the Holocaust - a Blog Tour and Book Excerpt for "What Remains is Hope"

BOOK EXCERPT:

Frankfurt

November 1938

Gustav carefully navigated the streets to the shop. It was normally a five-minute walk, but broken glass was everywhere and Gustav needed to be careful. To complicate matters, Nazi brownshirts were still in the streets, looking to inflict more damage. Everywhere Gustav looked, there were broken windows and defaced storefronts. They lived in the East End of Frankfurt – often called the Jewish section – and the hoodlums knew where to focus their attention. Gustav had been awakened in the early morning hours by the sounds of yelling and glass breaking. Parting the curtain carefully in his apartment, Gustav could see the Nazi brownshirts carrying torches, randomly breaking windows. The family decided it was safer to remain inside and away from the windows and wait until the violence ended. By eleven a.m., things were quieter, and his stepfather announced he was leaving, walking out the front door without waiting for a response. His mother yelled to Gustav to get dressed and follow his papa, which he did.

As he reached the shop, Gustav could see his stepfather picking up trash in front of the building. The windows were all broken and large swastikas were painted across the front door. Someone had entered the store through the broken windows, since Gustav could see that most of the few remaining bolts of fabric were gone. Gustav went up to his stepfather and said, “Papa, there’s not much we can do right now, and it’s still not safe for Jews. Let’s go home.”

His stepfather stopped picking up trash but didn’t move. “We can go home, but I need to see one place first. I need to see the synagogue.”

“Okay, but let’s hurry.”

To reach their synagogue on Friedberger Anlage, they walked along the Zeil – the main shopping street in Frankfurt – and Gustav was shocked at the level of destruction. Windows were smashed, and swastikas were painted on the walls. Looters were running out of the stores through broken doors and windows. Gustav wanted to run home, but he knew it was important for his stepfather to see the synagogue. His stepfather had moved to Frankfurt from Poland after the Great War, part of an influx of Polish Jews looking for a better life. The Polish Jews settled in the East End and were welcomed to the Orthodox synagogue established years earlier by Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch in opposition to the movement of many German Jews to a more liberal religious practice. His stepfather was not particularly observant, but found a community with the members of the synagogue, mostly Polish Jews. He tried to go as often as possible to services, and Gustav had his bar mitzvah there. The synagogue was the largest in Frankfurt, and Gustav, as a child, would marvel at the numerous cloakroom attendants who would take the men’s hats and exchange them for the silk top hats worn for the Saturday morning service.

Gustav could smell something burning as they neared the synagogue. Once they turned the corner onto Friedberger Anlage, he saw the synagogue in flames. They walked as close as they could, but a large crowd had already gathered and included youths with large clubs. Every window had been broken. Worse, the Torahs and prayer books were in a pile in the street, and they watched in horror as a Nazi youth set them on fire. Gustav knew it wasn’t safe to remain there long, and nudged his stepfather to leave.

His stepfather ignored Gustav, and said softly, almost to himself, “Baruch Dayan Ha’emet.” The blessing one recited in the face of a terrible loss, usually a death, but a blessing that also expressed faith that God had an ultimate purpose for this terrible loss. Gustav could not bring himself to repeat the blessing. He just couldn’t imagine there was any purpose for the destruction of this beautiful synagogue. Instead, he put his arm around his stepfather’s shoulders and guided him away from the synagogue. As they walked away, they saw firemen spraying water on the neighboring buildings to prevent the fire from spreading but ignoring the burning synagogue. His stepfather turned to Gustav and said, “I will always remember this day, November 10^th.”