Echoes of Memory

A Furtive Thing

When you are five and a half years old, at what point do you start crying because you haven’t seen your mother?

The Child Who Thought She Knew Better and the Gold Bag

I wanted to help my mother, you see, and at the same time to establish a certain authority about myself.

Three Words That Saved Two Lives

A few years ago, I donated a German passport to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, along with a description explaining the meaning of each entry.

Have I Changed Over Time?

My best remembered early days were unfortunately my years in Nazi Germany.

Fruits of the Season

Going back to my childhood in Germany, my mother always had a bowl of fresh fruit sitting on our dinner table. Fruit was just one thing that was always available, so no big deal. But things changed drastically when I fled with my parents to the United States at age 13.

Ellen

In the spring of 1945, the US Army was closing in on Cologne. I was an intelligence agent, a member of Interrogator Prisoner of War Team no.66, a part of an intelligence unit called T-Force, 12th Army Group, with a mission to follow the infantry into large cities as they were liberated.

The Power of Trust and Faith

My Street

Fire

Fire is wonderful, warms up your home, Fire is terrible, destruction, war. What do I remember about fire? My grandmother’s home, the stove with tile. I came in from the winter, very cold, but I put my back against that warm stove.

The Chosen People

It all had started in Germany. With hate, the Nazis got tough. We Jews were placed in jeopardy. That should have been enough!