Selected text
My father had an uncle, who lived in Antwerp, Belgium, but he didn’t have a family. He helped the other family members also, but predominantly us. He always wrote to my mother to have us girls learn some trade, he’ll find us husbands, just make sure everyone has a trade. The Second World War obviously wrecked those plans. They deported the Jews from Belgium also, that’s how he never returned.
The only sibling of my father’s that I knew personally was Aunt Etus. Her husband was called Nachman Tevlovits. They lived in Prague. Directly before the war, they had a daughter, Jindricka. I never visited them before the war, so I can’t say anything about them. They were taken away to the Theresienstadt [4] concentration camp. They were lucky because my uncle was a very clever man, he wove baskets from willow branches, and chairs and baby carriages. The Germans spared his life because of it, since they always needed something. He went down to the river to collect the willow branches. He set traps for the ravens, which my aunt made soup from. This is how the whole family escaped. They spent three or four years in the Theresienstadt concentration camp.
When they were liberated, Aunt Etus told me, they went back to Prague in a horse-drawn carriage. They lived in a family home on the outskirts. In 1947, I married in Prague, and the reception feast was held in their house. After the war, until I married, I often stayed at their house. My aunt really loved me, I even resembled her. When her daughter was born, Evike, I washed diapers for her, and cooked for them. I helped them a lot. In February of 1948 [5], before the Communists took complete control in Czechoslovakia, they emigrated to America. My uncle also had a friend living there, who sent a letter of invitation [required for US visa] and ship’s passage. Father went to say goodbye. They never saw each other again. Why they left, I don’t know. Maybe, they would have locked up my uncle, for having a broom factory.
At first, they lived in America in New York, from there in Michigan, then they moved to Detroit, where they belonged to an orthodox religious community. Their only son was born in Detroit, Ervin, who got the Jewish name Jichak. Aunt Etus spoke Yiddish with her children. After the political changes [1989][6], I visited them once in Detroit. I met my Aunt, Jindricka and Jichak. We spoke in Yiddish because my aunt couldn’t speak a word of Hungarian anymore. She only knew enough to write in Hungarian in her letters, ‘csokol Etus’[‘kisses Etus’]. She could write that still. My aunt died at the age of ninety-three. She’s buried in the Jewish cemetery in Detroit.
Jindricka remembered my wedding, and how she always asked her mother, ‘Mami, kdy budu ja takova slezna jako Ruzenka?’ [Mommy, when will I be a big girl like Rozika?] They called me Ruzenka in Prague. She remembered that. That made me very happy. When I was in America, Jindricka was about 64-65 years old. Jindricka was divorced from her husband, she has two families, both chose Jewish spouses. Today Jindricka is a retired teacher, her son is a pharmacist. Her daughter worked with computers, but she’s also retired now. The children are not religious, anymore. The son still goes to temple, but he’s not so religious. The girls [Jindricka and Evicka] don’t go to temple anymore either. Jindricka’s children live in Chicago, I didn’t meet them. I saw one of the daughters and the son of my other cousin, Jichak. The girl was a university student. His other daughter was living in Caracas then, I didn’t meet her.
The only sibling of my father’s that I knew personally was Aunt Etus. Her husband was called Nachman Tevlovits. They lived in Prague. Directly before the war, they had a daughter, Jindricka. I never visited them before the war, so I can’t say anything about them. They were taken away to the Theresienstadt [4] concentration camp. They were lucky because my uncle was a very clever man, he wove baskets from willow branches, and chairs and baby carriages. The Germans spared his life because of it, since they always needed something. He went down to the river to collect the willow branches. He set traps for the ravens, which my aunt made soup from. This is how the whole family escaped. They spent three or four years in the Theresienstadt concentration camp.
When they were liberated, Aunt Etus told me, they went back to Prague in a horse-drawn carriage. They lived in a family home on the outskirts. In 1947, I married in Prague, and the reception feast was held in their house. After the war, until I married, I often stayed at their house. My aunt really loved me, I even resembled her. When her daughter was born, Evike, I washed diapers for her, and cooked for them. I helped them a lot. In February of 1948 [5], before the Communists took complete control in Czechoslovakia, they emigrated to America. My uncle also had a friend living there, who sent a letter of invitation [required for US visa] and ship’s passage. Father went to say goodbye. They never saw each other again. Why they left, I don’t know. Maybe, they would have locked up my uncle, for having a broom factory.
At first, they lived in America in New York, from there in Michigan, then they moved to Detroit, where they belonged to an orthodox religious community. Their only son was born in Detroit, Ervin, who got the Jewish name Jichak. Aunt Etus spoke Yiddish with her children. After the political changes [1989][6], I visited them once in Detroit. I met my Aunt, Jindricka and Jichak. We spoke in Yiddish because my aunt couldn’t speak a word of Hungarian anymore. She only knew enough to write in Hungarian in her letters, ‘csokol Etus’[‘kisses Etus’]. She could write that still. My aunt died at the age of ninety-three. She’s buried in the Jewish cemetery in Detroit.
Jindricka remembered my wedding, and how she always asked her mother, ‘Mami, kdy budu ja takova slezna jako Ruzenka?’ [Mommy, when will I be a big girl like Rozika?] They called me Ruzenka in Prague. She remembered that. That made me very happy. When I was in America, Jindricka was about 64-65 years old. Jindricka was divorced from her husband, she has two families, both chose Jewish spouses. Today Jindricka is a retired teacher, her son is a pharmacist. Her daughter worked with computers, but she’s also retired now. The children are not religious, anymore. The son still goes to temple, but he’s not so religious. The girls [Jindricka and Evicka] don’t go to temple anymore either. Jindricka’s children live in Chicago, I didn’t meet them. I saw one of the daughters and the son of my other cousin, Jichak. The girl was a university student. His other daughter was living in Caracas then, I didn’t meet her.
Location
Slovakia
Interview
Ruzena Deutschova
Tag(s)