I came home with the hope that I would find someone. But I came here, got married and my husband wouldn’t hear of leaving for Israel or anywhere abroad. So we were stuck here.
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Displaying 47341 - 47370 of 50826 results
Klara Markus
One afternoon we went to Dr. Dori Berger, she was my cousin Zsofi’s sister-in-law. And my husband-to-be was also there. The instant he saw me he fell for me and we got married in one week, on 15th March 1946. This is the story of our encounter. We had a religious wedding with a rabbi, but I had no wedding dress or anything, there was no way I could have had one.
I didn’t even have a white veil, instead I covered my face with a colored silk shawl, according to the Jewish tradition. My husband just put on the clothes he wore every day. When we came back, neither of us had anything, so how do you think we were dressed? We wore what we had, and they just brought the chuppah and put it somewhere in the yard. And that was it. There was no dinner, nothing, it wasn’t like that then; we were happy to be alive and have something to eat.
I didn’t even have a white veil, instead I covered my face with a colored silk shawl, according to the Jewish tradition. My husband just put on the clothes he wore every day. When we came back, neither of us had anything, so how do you think we were dressed? We wore what we had, and they just brought the chuppah and put it somewhere in the yard. And that was it. There was no dinner, nothing, it wasn’t like that then; we were happy to be alive and have something to eat.
The only one who came home from deportation was my eldest sister’s husband, Berci Fuchs. My brother-in-law was taken to forced labor from the ghetto, so he was separated from the family. He wanted to marry me right after the war, but I told him I couldn’t marry my sister’s widower.
Then he got married to a Christian woman, who was older than me, someone of his age and who he had a son with.
Then he got married to a Christian woman, who was older than me, someone of his age and who he had a son with.
Everything was taken away from the house. We had beautiful furniture, a mahogany dinner-table, a white girl’s room and drab bedroom set. Apparently these were taken away by the Russians. When I arrived home, there was nothing there, the house was empty.
The neighbors weren’t too delighted that I had returned, because they had stolen everything. It showed that they weren’t happy to see me, because they thought I would reclaim my possessions. But I didn’t know what each of them had taken. The Menesis were there, though, a very decent family, they returned the jewels my mother hadn’t handed in to the Swabian Bank, because Jews had to give their jewels to this bank prior to their deportation, but left there.
The neighbors weren’t too delighted that I had returned, because they had stolen everything. It showed that they weren’t happy to see me, because they thought I would reclaim my possessions. But I didn’t know what each of them had taken. The Menesis were there, though, a very decent family, they returned the jewels my mother hadn’t handed in to the Swabian Bank, because Jews had to give their jewels to this bank prior to their deportation, but left there.
I couldn’t believe the reality, I lived in a dream-world, and couldn’t even imagine this had actually happened. I went home because I was convinced I would find my family there. I couldn’t imagine that something like this could happen in the middle of Europe, such a Holocaust.
I often wonder how people were killed just because they were Jews or Gypsies. This is awful! And it’s useless to say we have to forgive, it’s impossible. I, who came back and didn’t find my family, can’t forgive them, my family’s memory stops me from doing so.
I can’t forgive them for what they did to us, to burn healthy people alive, it’s inconceivable. It’s all the same now, no one can bring them back, but even so I say they watched over me from there. This has nothing to do with religion; I just felt it.
I often wonder how people were killed just because they were Jews or Gypsies. This is awful! And it’s useless to say we have to forgive, it’s impossible. I, who came back and didn’t find my family, can’t forgive them, my family’s memory stops me from doing so.
I can’t forgive them for what they did to us, to burn healthy people alive, it’s inconceivable. It’s all the same now, no one can bring them back, but even so I say they watched over me from there. This has nothing to do with religion; I just felt it.
Finally I arrived home to Nagykaroly on 11th September 1945.
I said I wanted to go home, so they put me on a truck. We came home by train. I first got to Budapest, because my younger cousin Agi was there. She escaped the deportation because she had some documents, but she wouldn’t let me know, she kept it a secret even after the war.
I was liberated from Sachsenhausen.
The Russians came in, but we were like animals, we weren’t aware of anything, we were dazed, and later I found out that the Germans had been giving us bromide all that time, they put it in the tea and everything else. We didn’t even have our menstruation, and were sedated, so there was nothing to doubt or think about.
And only when the bromide wore off we woke up and realized what had happened. But even then we had no idea what was happening, because we remembered nothing.
The Russians came in, but we were like animals, we weren’t aware of anything, we were dazed, and later I found out that the Germans had been giving us bromide all that time, they put it in the tea and everything else. We didn’t even have our menstruation, and were sedated, so there was nothing to doubt or think about.
And only when the bromide wore off we woke up and realized what had happened. But even then we had no idea what was happening, because we remembered nothing.
There was a very decent man, an old man, the master, who used to bring me some bread or something in secret. I don’t think that it was bread, but then what was it? I know he brought me something secretly. There were decent people even among them.
I was taken away from Budapest on 15th October 1944. First they took me to Dachau [today Germany]. This was the sorting place, we didn’t work there, we were only taken to labor camps from there: Ravensbruck [today Germany], Spandau-Berlin [a suburb of Berlin, Germany], Oranienburg [sub-camp of Sachsenhausen in Northern Germany, 35km from Berlin].
I also remember that when our turn came to be gassed, they took us to the gas-chamber, but they ran out of gas. A woman came in and said, ‘Na das ist schon! Kein Gas mehr.’ [German for ‘How nice! We ran out of gas.’] We worked in an ammunition factory.
I also remember that when our turn came to be gassed, they took us to the gas-chamber, but they ran out of gas. A woman came in and said, ‘Na das ist schon! Kein Gas mehr.’ [German for ‘How nice! We ran out of gas.’] We worked in an ammunition factory.
I received one more card in Budapest from my family, but it had been sent by the management of the camp. My family wrote, ‘We are fine, and so on...’, and they wrote Waldsee on it to mislead people, so they would think they were well off there.
[Editor’s note: From the end of summer 1944 the women were left alive in the Auschwitz-Birkenau extermination camp and were allowed to send a card to Hungary. The pre-written text was the same: I arrived in good health. I’m fine. With love… They were only allowed to sign and write the address.
The Nazis then wrote on it as sender location ‘Waldsee’, which sounded like a nice resort, and under it they wrote the following in Hungarian and German: Reply only on the card (max. 30 words) in German, via the Association of Hungarian Jews, Budapest, VII., Sip Str. 12. The name and birth date of the prisoner were also written on the card.]
Unfortunately, I don’t have this letter anymore. Then, on 2nd October 1944, Olga wrote me another letter, ‘Klarika, I received a dateless card from you.’ I didn’t write the date on it. ‘I don’t know when you wrote it. I already wrote to you why I’m not writing. I wrote you a long letter, though, and received no answer.
I still don’t know anything about Manyi and the others, no matter how badly I wish I did.’ Well, you’ll never find people like this anymore! They were true Catholics, their belief in God was very strong. ‘My husband is a soldier, but I don’t know where.
[Editor’s note: From the end of summer 1944 the women were left alive in the Auschwitz-Birkenau extermination camp and were allowed to send a card to Hungary. The pre-written text was the same: I arrived in good health. I’m fine. With love… They were only allowed to sign and write the address.
The Nazis then wrote on it as sender location ‘Waldsee’, which sounded like a nice resort, and under it they wrote the following in Hungarian and German: Reply only on the card (max. 30 words) in German, via the Association of Hungarian Jews, Budapest, VII., Sip Str. 12. The name and birth date of the prisoner were also written on the card.]
Unfortunately, I don’t have this letter anymore. Then, on 2nd October 1944, Olga wrote me another letter, ‘Klarika, I received a dateless card from you.’ I didn’t write the date on it. ‘I don’t know when you wrote it. I already wrote to you why I’m not writing. I wrote you a long letter, though, and received no answer.
I still don’t know anything about Manyi and the others, no matter how badly I wish I did.’ Well, you’ll never find people like this anymore! They were true Catholics, their belief in God was very strong. ‘My husband is a soldier, but I don’t know where.
,
During WW2
See text in interview
My brother-in-law told me that when they were deported, Mariska asked her mother, ‘Why are we Jews?’ They were still on a truck then.
They were taken to Szatmar and from there they were deported to Auschwitz. Unfortunately it was all carefully planned. Very few were exempted from Deportation in North Transylvania [13]. In Nagykaroly there was only one man, called Zoli [Zoltan] Erstein, who made passports, and he was exempted, I don’t know why. Europe’s disgrace!
,
During WW2
See text in interview
Olga was a photographer as well. They were very nice Hungarian Christians. Her husband’s original name was Metz, but he magyarized it to Menesi after the war [World War II].
He rented the photo studio after Koziarszky. The studio was called ‘Kelet fenykepeszeti muterem’ [Orient photo studio]. Olga then wrote to me, but it was so risky! They deserved everything good, because they were very nice. On 13th May she wrote, ‘Klarika, they have been put on trucks, on closed cargo trucks.
They will probably be taken to Szatmar. I don’t know anything certain. They had food for the trip. They left me word that they will write to you. I’m not able to write to you because not only my soul, even my mind is aching. I would like to talk to you, but when?
You just write to me, and I will, too. If Jancsi gets well, he will look you up, as I wrote earlier. The town is empty now and the atmosphere is low-spirited. With love, Olga.’ And how risky it was for her to write to me! How dear these people were!
He rented the photo studio after Koziarszky. The studio was called ‘Kelet fenykepeszeti muterem’ [Orient photo studio]. Olga then wrote to me, but it was so risky! They deserved everything good, because they were very nice. On 13th May she wrote, ‘Klarika, they have been put on trucks, on closed cargo trucks.
They will probably be taken to Szatmar. I don’t know anything certain. They had food for the trip. They left me word that they will write to you. I’m not able to write to you because not only my soul, even my mind is aching. I would like to talk to you, but when?
You just write to me, and I will, too. If Jancsi gets well, he will look you up, as I wrote earlier. The town is empty now and the atmosphere is low-spirited. With love, Olga.’ And how risky it was for her to write to me! How dear these people were!
My mother, Anci, her husband and little girl, as well as my other sister were taken to the ghetto in Nagykaroly. The ghetto of Nagykaroly was on Wesselenyi Street.
I still have a letter my mother wrote on 4th May, the day they were taken to the ghetto: ‘My dear, your letter has just arrived, we are moving today. We wrote to you yesterday, please don’t be upset, but I wasn’t able to write. Write to me briefly and you’ll be informed about our whereabouts. God bless you and many, many hugs.’ How nice!
My sister wrote on the other side of the card: ‘My dear, I wrote you another letter yesterday. Our acquaintances have all moved out, and today we will as well, and I’ll write you as soon as possible. Olga will write to you. Take care and write to Olga. Many hugs.’ Olga was the wife of Janos Menesi, the photographer.
I still have a letter my mother wrote on 4th May, the day they were taken to the ghetto: ‘My dear, your letter has just arrived, we are moving today. We wrote to you yesterday, please don’t be upset, but I wasn’t able to write. Write to me briefly and you’ll be informed about our whereabouts. God bless you and many, many hugs.’ How nice!
My sister wrote on the other side of the card: ‘My dear, I wrote you another letter yesterday. Our acquaintances have all moved out, and today we will as well, and I’ll write you as soon as possible. Olga will write to you. Take care and write to Olga. Many hugs.’ Olga was the wife of Janos Menesi, the photographer.
I had already left the umbrella factory because the Jews had been fired because of the Anti-Jewish laws is Hungary [12]. I had some spare money from my savings and lived on it. At first, we were only allowed to go out onto the street until 5pm.
Those were awful times, awful! Even before all this, Jews weren’t distributed their mail, and my mother used to send me letters addressed to my uncle’s servant, a Christian, who then handed me the letters. After the war, when I returned, the Berliners were still alive and I got my letters through them.
Those were awful times, awful! Even before all this, Jews weren’t distributed their mail, and my mother used to send me letters addressed to my uncle’s servant, a Christian, who then handed me the letters. After the war, when I returned, the Berliners were still alive and I got my letters through them.
I rented a room from Aron Berliner, a Jewish teacher. They were nice and honest people, his wife was much younger than him.
After a while it was impossible for me to stay there because it was outside the ghetto, and then I moved to Harsfa Street, to No. 57, with one of my girlfriends, Margitka. She was a friend of one of my relatives, the wife of Dr. Cukor Lajos, in Nagykaroly. This house was in the ghetto, at first it was a yellow star house.
After a while it was impossible for me to stay there because it was outside the ghetto, and then I moved to Harsfa Street, to No. 57, with one of my girlfriends, Margitka. She was a friend of one of my relatives, the wife of Dr. Cukor Lajos, in Nagykaroly. This house was in the ghetto, at first it was a yellow star house.
Then I ended up in Budapest, when Northern Transylvania was annexed to Hungary in 1940, according to the Second Vienna Dictate [11], because the insurance company went bankrupt and I had no prospect in Nagykaroly. I first got a job as a worker at an umbrella factory. The owners of the factory were my uncle’s good friends. And my mother used to send me packages, even though they were poor.
,
During WW2
See text in interview
After I graduated I went back to Nagykaroly and got a job. I worked at an insurance company called Generali, I was a typist. My boss was Roth, a Jew. Even back then one could insure his house, life, anything.
When I went to the middle school in Maramarossziget, I lived at Uncle Sandor’s place for two years. He was my mother’s older brother. Laci was already living in Paris by then. They had a four-room apartment with bathroom on Rozsa [Roses] Street. The house is still there. It was a luxury to have a bathroom then.
I liked Sziget because I had family there and they supported me; they were very nice. We didn’t go to the synagogue too often. The children didn’t, only the men used to go to the synagogue, women less, only on high holidays. However, I attended religion class. Our teacher was Dr. Samuel Danczig, the Neolog rabbi of [Maramaros] Sziget.
I liked Sziget because I had family there and they supported me; they were very nice. We didn’t go to the synagogue too often. The children didn’t, only the men used to go to the synagogue, women less, only on high holidays. However, I attended religion class. Our teacher was Dr. Samuel Danczig, the Neolog rabbi of [Maramaros] Sziget.
From the fifth grade [first grade of middle school] we learnt every subject in Romanian, but also some languages, German and French. We had an excellent Romanian and French teacher, Camelia Naom. Her husband had his legs amputated; he had fought in World War I.
Our geography and history teacher was Aurelia Fekete. These were two excellent teachers. I don’t know which grade it was when we had a thin little book, but it was edited by Aliseanu Pop. I really liked this name. As far as I remember, we were studying the Romanian history.
Then I studied one year in private, because there was no middle school in Nagykaroly. My private tutor was called Ranedzay; he was Hungarian, and I hated the poor man so much I wasn’t willing to study. He was a big, fat man with nose-glasses.
He wasn’t severe, though, and was happy if he got lessons, since he was a private tutor. I only used to go to Szatmar for exams, but I don’t know to which middle school. There were several examination teachers, but there was this one lady teacher called Niehtung.
She was extremely strict, she examined me in one discipline, but I don’t remember which one. Then I went to Sziget, and attended the sixth and seventh grades in Domnita Ileana school, and graduated from there in 1932.
Our geography and history teacher was Aurelia Fekete. These were two excellent teachers. I don’t know which grade it was when we had a thin little book, but it was edited by Aliseanu Pop. I really liked this name. As far as I remember, we were studying the Romanian history.
Then I studied one year in private, because there was no middle school in Nagykaroly. My private tutor was called Ranedzay; he was Hungarian, and I hated the poor man so much I wasn’t willing to study. He was a big, fat man with nose-glasses.
He wasn’t severe, though, and was happy if he got lessons, since he was a private tutor. I only used to go to Szatmar for exams, but I don’t know to which middle school. There were several examination teachers, but there was this one lady teacher called Niehtung.
She was extremely strict, she examined me in one discipline, but I don’t remember which one. Then I went to Sziget, and attended the sixth and seventh grades in Domnita Ileana school, and graduated from there in 1932.
In the first grade our teacher was Mrs. Niedermann. She was a very charming lady. Then we had a teacher called Riesenbach, but he taught us only from the third or fourth grade. He used to give us ‘kormos’ if we didn’t know the lesson, or if we didn’t sit right or misbehaved.
[Editor’s note: ‘Kormos’ meant that the pupil had to put together his fingers and the teacher hit his fingertips with a stick.] He used to give us ‘kormos’, and it was such a disgrace!
[Editor’s note: ‘Kormos’ meant that the pupil had to put together his fingers and the teacher hit his fingertips with a stick.] He used to give us ‘kormos’, and it was such a disgrace!
In the Jewish school we were surely at least 15 in a class, boys and girls mixed. We learnt the Latin alphabet in Hungarian and learnt one or two prayers in Hebrew, such as the morning prayer, but later, as far as I remember, we had to say the prayers in Romanian. In the morning we said the morning prayer, and at noon, when we came out, we also had a prayer.
I know the Our Father in Hungarian, Romanian and French.
usually pray saying only prayers I make up.
I don’t recite specific prayers. From the Jewish prayers I know the blessing of bread and wine.
I don’t recite specific prayers. From the Jewish prayers I know the blessing of bread and wine.
Currently we observe the religion to the extent that we don’t eat pork meat, never put sour cream on meat and never mix meat with dairy products. But we don’t observe the rules like the ‘strengen’ [German for ‘strict’] kosher Jews.
Babika met her husband in Jaszvasar, they even had their wedding there in a synagogue. Her husband is originally from Jaszvasar, his original name was Hari Burah, but he adopted my daughter’s name.
Babika wouldn’t give up her name, because this was such a tradition, and her great-grandfather was also called Markus and my son Viktor is also called Markus, so Hari became Markus.
Babika wouldn’t give up her name, because this was such a tradition, and her great-grandfather was also called Markus and my son Viktor is also called Markus, so Hari became Markus.
My daughter Babika went to the university in Iasi and graduated from the dentist faculty. She went to Iasi because then it was very difficult to enter university, and there were some other Jewish girls who wanted to go there: Itu, Eva and others.
And they tossed for places. So Babika got Jaszvasar [Iasi], the other Kolozsvar, while the third one got Bucharest.
And they tossed for places. So Babika got Jaszvasar [Iasi], the other Kolozsvar, while the third one got Bucharest.
These are only customs. I didn’t really use to go to the [Jewish] community, because I didn’t really have time, and I never was the religious kind. My husband used to go there; he was the president of the community for a while after World War II.
We sent Viktor to cheder, and after he came home he wouldn’t eat this, he wouldn’t eat that, he only wanted to eat kosher meals, and all kinds of things. We weren’t allowed to do this and that, and so I didn’t let him go there anymore. I wasn’t able to believe in these things, I don’t like restrictions and sticking to something that belongs to the past.