Have I Changed Over Time?
My best remembered early days were unfortunately my years in Nazi Germany.
Start of Main Content
Read reflections and testimonies written by Holocaust survivors in their own words.
Clear filter for "Echoes of Memory Volume 15"
Page 3 of 7
The Street I Lived on after the War
The name of the street was Rottenbiller in Budapest, Hungary. It was named after a mayor of Budapest who served in the 19th century. We got an apartment there after our original flat was bombed out. I was about three years old. My mother, my grandmother, my uncle Herman with his wife and later two daughters, my uncle Sanyi, and I all lived there. I mostly remember certain pictures in my mind.
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!
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.
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.
Moments of Great Joy
I remember three moments of great joy in my life. The first one was the day we were liberated.
Last Night I Dreamt of My Father
Last night I dreamt of my father. He was not my father as I remembered him. He was another man, and yet my father. His face and clothes were from another time, Another place.
Becoming Who I Am
My mother’s oft-repeated axiom to me was, “Remember the good, forget the bad.” Undoubtedly, that is how she willed herself to move on with life after the Nazis robbed her of a husband and two daughters.
Have We Ever Learned from History?
My answer is no, and I have reasons, because wars come around like the seasons. Where there is a man with absolute power, his rule can be a disaster.
The Klikk
After almost a year’s absence from my hometown of Miskolc, I arrived in Budapest with Shosha, my sister, and Rozalia, my mother. We stayed at the home of my aunt, Bozsi, and her daughter, Magda. My uncle, Moka, Bozsi’s husband, unfortunately did not return from forced labor.
This Section
Survivor Reflections and Testimonies
Listen to or read Holocaust survivors’ experiences, told in their own words through oral histories, written testimony, and public programs.