I heard her cries coming from the research carrel next to mine at the Holocaust Museum. Her name was Irene, a short middle aged woman, staring, as I was, at a computer screen. Hoping, as I was, that a relative’s name would appear that might prove that family members lived in more than stories told by aging parents or grandparents. She had been searching for 10 years. Now, in one afternoon, she had found 70 people. I left my carrel and sat next to her. Stunned, I asked, “You had 70 family members who perished?” “No,” she said. I had more, many more.”
I asked Irene to tell me her story. Instead, she told me about her mother.
Her mother was born in Stanislawow, a shtetl in Poland. Everyone had to register for the census. There was a line reserved for religion. She had a gut feeling about what would happen if she wrote that she was a Jew. She refused to comply. She ran from the shtetl. She was 15 years old.
She was on her own, away from home. She was picked up three years later in another town, forced to board a train with other Jews. She had a gut feeling about where the train was headed. She refused to comply. She jumped. She ran from the train. She was 18 years old.
She was shot twice, but she wasn’t caught. She ran into the woods. Resistance fighters found her. She stayed with them, until ultimately, she ended up in a concentration camp anyway. She met another girl there and they became friends, as only people can when they have lost everything else in their lives. They had a gut feeling about what their end would be. They refused to comply. They ran from the camp. She was 19 years old.
She changed her name. She became Tsesha. She and her friend disappeared into the anonymity of a large city. They worked manual labor, whatever anyone would hire them for. They created new lives, based on their peasant clothes and peasant names. For the first time in five years, she felt safe. They met two boys who were surviving just as they were. Within three days, they married the boys, in wedding dresses they made out of blankets. She was 20 years old.
She gave birth to two children and after the war, the family relocated to Canada. They had a good life. Then she got cancer. Surgery was performed and a mass was removed. Inside the mass, the surgeon found lead and shrapnel from the bullets 20 years before. Ultimately, the cancer was stronger than the census and the bullets and the concentration camp. It did not allow her to run. She died. She was 40 years old.
And so Irene searches. For the large, extended families her parents left behind. Who obeyed the rules. Who complied with the census and were taken from their homes. Who didn’t jump from the trains. Who were rewarded for their complicity by having had their lives taken away. Who exist now only in the form of names on computer screen images. Unlike a young woman who refused to comply. Who instead ran and who survived long enough to give Irene life and to love her for eighteen years. Who taught Irene what it meant to give up everything except one’s spirit. And to never run from that.
Jean Peelen
August 25, 2011
How beautiful, how beautiful,.In my little life with my many privileges, and minor problems, I forget the pain with which some people live.
lifeintheboomerlane
August 25, 2011
It’s easy to forget (impossible to comprehend) when we live such lives of comfort and safety.
Marianne
August 25, 2011
Human spirit and tenacity in the face of unbelievable adversity is amazing……
lifeintheboomerlane
August 25, 2011
That it is!
Gayane
August 25, 2011
Beautiful Renee, shame on me if I complain about the very very insignificant things that bother me in my life…
lifeintheboomerlane
August 25, 2011
You know, we all react to whatever adversity we are given. It’s simply human nature. But even while we are complaining, we get to be so grateful for what we have. It’s when we start feeling sorry for ourselves and feel like victims that we get into trouble.
Hot damn, Charlotte Ann!
August 25, 2011
That is chilling. Thank you so much for sharing this story.
lifeintheboomerlane
August 25, 2011
You are welcome. Even as Irene was speaking to me, I could see the words on the page.
Kathryn McCullough
August 25, 2011
Your writing here is stunning, Renee, and the story so sad and so inspiring at the same time. Wow–this is an amazing post, my friend! Thank you so much for writing it–for making us remember what the world can become if we ever forget.
Kathy
lifeintheboomerlane
August 25, 2011
Thanks, Kathy. Yes, your last line is perfect.
georgettesullins
August 26, 2011
Your story is so important. I have a friend who worked in the Houston Holocaust Museum. When her husband was transferred abroad to work with an American company, she invited me to visit. I went and learned so much more. We are very privileged to hear your story, and I was privileged to hear hers. Your words are beautiful here.
lifeintheboomerlane
August 26, 2011
Thanks, Georgette. These stories are important for so many reasons. And the people who lived them will soon be gone. It’s up to us to keep the stories alive.
Carole Marshall
August 26, 2011
Thank you, these stories cannot be told often enough.
lifeintheboomerlane
August 26, 2011
I agree. Once we stop telling the stories, the “history” will change.
dragonfae
August 26, 2011
Thank you for this. It’s important that we never forget the atrocities humans can visit upon one another. And I agree, this is a beautiful post!
lifeintheboomerlane
August 26, 2011
You are welcome. I read an amazing book called “The Lost: The Search for Six of Six Million.” The title was riveting to me because it took an incomprehensible number down to something that one could relate to. That’s what each story does.
omawarisan
August 26, 2011
Wonderfully done, ma’am.
lifeintheboomerlane
August 26, 2011
Thanks, Oma. I am humbled by your comment.
pegoleg
August 26, 2011
What a gift – to be able to share this woman’s story. It was riveting, as was your telling of it.
lifeintheboomerlane
August 26, 2011
Thanks, Peg. It was such an honor for me to have been given the opportunity to share it with others.
k8edid
August 26, 2011
Thank you for telling her story. You are correct, history will change if the stories are not told. Beautifully done.
lifeintheboomerlane
August 27, 2011
And thank you for your comments. I love to write humor, but I always feel closest to the pieces that are meaningful to me.
winsomebella
August 28, 2011
You tell a story like the best of ’em. Really powerful. Thanks.
lifeintheboomerlane
August 28, 2011
And thank you for that comment!
Jill H
August 31, 2011
What a wonderful story. Such a great woman of great endurance. You have really brought this to life in an amazing way. Thank you.
lifeintheboomerlane
September 1, 2011
Thanks for visiting Life in the Boomer Lane and for your comments, Jill. I’m honored to be able to bring her story to people, one story out of many millions.
sharon
September 7, 2011
The facts, the economy of words, the impact! Thank you.
lifeintheboomerlane
September 7, 2011
Thanks so much, Sharon. I was overwhelmed to hear the story from Irene and so grateful that she allowed me to write about it.
Bad Pants
September 21, 2011
The most beautiful thing I’ve read all week. Thank you.
lifeintheboomerlane
September 21, 2011
And thank you. I’m honored when anyone reads my serious pieces and is affected by them.