The Yellow Badge
My grandmother had a box filled with buttons, threads, and pieces of fabric.
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Read reflections and testimonies written by Holocaust survivors in their own words.
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A Moment of Great Joy
When I received this assignment with this title, there was no doubt in my mind what my subject would be. Several occasions crossed my mind as occasions of great joy, but the more I thought about it, the more convinced I became of my first choice.
Closure, Part I
Presenting my family’s Holocaust history to a live audience is never easy. I am always looking forward to the last ten to 15 minutes of the presentation, which is a question-and-answer session.
Waiting
On the outskirts of a small village near Vichy, France, Looms the antediluvian castle the Château des Morelles Housing not grand dukes and duchesses But children from Germany, France, and Italy—waiting Lost from their individual families Scattered by the Third Reich. They eat their meager food Pretending it is the feast of royalty.
Christmas in Belgrade, 1947
We live in a rented apartment shared with an obligatory additional person. My mother works, and my grandmother takes care of me. My father is absent from home. He has been on a business trip during this particular December. I am eight years old. Tito is our adored and undisputed Communist leader.
A Trip to a Dream Beach, 1951
My mother pined for the Adriatic Sea. Everything in that sea was so much better than the sea off the coast of Tel Aviv.
A Blissful Event
The year was 1963, and I was serving in the Israeli air force. I worked as a programmer on that famous huge Philco computer that filled a whole floor.
First Week in America
As we got closer to America, the sea became smooth and life returned to normal. The SS Nieuw Amsterdam finally entered New York Harbor on the evening of November 8, 1948.
Dresden
The scenes from the bombed-out buildings, destroyed cars and buses, and citizens fleeing for their lives in Ukraine remind me of the bombings in Prague during World War II and what I saw three years later in the city of Dresden, Germany.
An Image that Brings Back a Memory
It was the sixth year of the German occupation of Prague—on a Sunday afternoon in June of 1944. On most Sundays, my mother, Zdenka, and I and my mother’s sister, Olga, and her two children, Gerti, age 12, and Robert, age eight, would visit my Catholic grandparents’ apartment in downtown Prague. The two fathers were missing—both were on “business trips.”
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Survivor Reflections and Testimonies
Listen to or read Holocaust survivors’ experiences, told in their own words through oral histories, written testimony, and public programs.