Bella Helberg Shoah Foundation Testimony

What do you remember about the train?

I remember I was in the train and I cried. I want to drink a water. We were packed in like sardines and my mom used to say to me wait, mein kind wait soon we'll be there I'll give you some water. And it took for forever to get there.

Did you know where you were going?

No.

What did you know about the trip at all?

Nothing, I don't. We were told that we going to a big city were all the Jews, they're getting all the Jews together. And that's how I we came to Będzin.

Were you afraid?

I had my mom. I wasn't afraid, I had somebody to to hold on to.

Where were the boys?

And I was protected. They were with us. But this, this brother who is here, he wasn't with us. He stayed behind there by the family.

You and mom and the two older boys?

Yes. When we came to Będzin, I remember my aunt and they put them left, right to Auschwitz and us they sent right. That means they they separated people. And we went, we got an apartment in, on the street, I don't know, Modrzejowska something, in a basement my mom and my brothers.

How big an apartment?

A small, or maybe two rooms in a basement.

Tell me what you remember about the ghetto in Będzin.

And this was at the ghetto, but you could still walk around this was 1939. I remember I was sitting outside on the stoops with my mom because I didn't know the town and I didn't go without her no place. I remember I developed typhus at home, 1939, and she kept me in the house, and she she healed me, you know, she made me feel good, but I don't know what kind of medication whatever.

Yeah, you don't know what or where she got the medicine.

No, I don't. Then after this date maybe, we lived in that apartment maybe six seven months. They took put all the Jews together in a like a baseball field and they closed down this then they made a ghetto.

Well, what was it before if it wasn't a ghetto?

It was, you know, the Jews always live together.

A neighborhood,

A neighborhood. Let's put it this way, there's a was a Jewish community you walked in there and and my my mom had a brother who lived there, but they he was running away and he was killed on the road, on the way where he was running with his wife and his younger son so the boys and the girls were left behind were left and I remember that they used to come and tell my mom, auntie there is gonna be a [unclear] that they used to say in Polish. There's gonna be tonight, they're gonna look for young kids hide someplace, Bella. So they used to this was still in the old days used to hide me in the attic. They used to hide me and their cousin had a place where he made furniture and he had once took me hid me there and somehow I made it by by 193- end of 39. They took all the Jews and up like a baseball field and they separated. They made then they made a threw us out from this apartment where they gave us before and they made a ghetto.

So, how did it change?

A change that was another someplace else, a different part of the town. We all were together and what they gave us two rooms and we lived there and what I remember is my my brothers we lived what we could what we could get and what we had. Couldn't do anything anymore.

So again, they what, black market?

Black market and they they tried to work in them by somebody else's butcher. So they made to go buy, let's put it this way, then came the then we gave us this was 1939 almost close to 1940.

And had they sent away anybody yet from your family?

No, nobody yet. We're all together, everybody was together with mom with the brothers and me.

And the aunts also?

The aunt was gone, she was gone. I didn't we didn't see her anymore, nobody. And then in 41 we managed somehow to go by and it was curfew time, they were looking for Jews and you heard that this one was killed and this one they send away to a labor camp. But we were still together.

And and did you at this point know any better what was happening?

No, a little bit of fear, I had a fear in me. That there is something wrong. I saw the Germans walking with the caps. I was holding on to my mom, she should watch me, you know. But I didn't know much, schooling I didn't have I didn't go to school anymore.

What did the kids do during the day?

Nothing.

Did you work?

No, I didn't work, played.

Read?

Read, played around with the whoever was around me the kids, the Jewish little kids we played around.

Did you, where'd you get books?

They brought them, see there was a Jewish like here like they call it here JCC. There was a Jewish community and used to go and get a Jewish newspaper and the brother used to read it to me and our Polish book and you just sat around.

So that community center was in the ghetto?

Yes, yes in the ghetto, yes. And I had a cousin who was a policeman there and he used to tell my mom when it's going to be when they gonna now, how can I say it, when they want to get some people they needed to send away. So that's why she used to hide me and my brothers when they used to say and we somehow we made it. It was 1940 40 41 42, I was they some my cousin told my mom to hide me in the attic where we lived was an attic from straw, I remember three four kids, they put them up. And they came, Germans, somebody must have told on us and they came the Germans, they poked and they got me and they took me down. They took me down and they put me now in a truck cover truck full of Jews down to the Jewish Center and at the Jewish Center we were there. I remember when I was in the truck my mom ran after the truck screaming and crying, exchange me for my baby, let me go and let her be. That's the last time I saw my mother, I didn't see her anymore.

And the boys?

And the boys, none of them, that was the last time. And I came there to the Jewish Center. They got the Jews together and they send us to a to Sosnowitz. That was a what do me call it?

A transit camp?

A transit camp, that's all I remember. No, I didn't see my mom and this was the last time I saw my mom, she was running after me and my brothers, none of them.

Can you spell the name of the transit camp?

S-O-S-N-O I think W, I- Sosnowitz just like that. We were there maybe two days, but when I came in I was there all by myself. There were some people that they knew from me from my family, from my aunts and uncles. There was a guy and he said to me, don't worry I'm gonna try to protect you. But he didn't he couldn't and I turned around there was on a sitting on the floor my cousin—

The one that's in Israel now?

What lives in Israel. Her name is Bala, her Maiden name was Goodman, now she's Katz, K-A-C she calls herself and she starts screaming and yelling and we hug each other. She's maybe two years older than I. We hug each other we cried and she was already in camp. She was already transferred to another camp so she liked to say she was an old-timer already. And she said you're gonna be with me I'm not gonna let go of you. This is how I went stayed with her in Sosnowitz maybe 2 3 days and they start sending us to camps together to a labor camp was called Dyhernfurth.

Can you spell that for me?

This was German. Oh it's gonna be hard for me D-I-R-N W I think W Dyhern F-W Dyhernfurth this was a labor camp.

So that was your first camp?

That was my first camp.

And you were with your cousin?

With my cousin.

How did you go there?

We went by train, like by train cattle train for days and days and days, hungry. Then I understood that I'm alone, then I knew I'm alone.

Even though you were with her?

Even though I was with her. I miss my mom, I miss my brothers and even though then I knew I had a fear in me and I knew I'm alone. But you try that then then I was 16 years old.

When was this? What year was it?

This was 1942.

So you were 16 and she was 18?

Eighteen, yes. And she was she was already at the camp she was she she, they transferred her to another camp and we worked there and put them and we were maybe 200 women 300. And men were in another camp. We cooked for them, we did you know, wasn't bad because we were cooking for the men and then we would we shared our bunk together my cousin and I and we we tell told stories to each other and reminisce and this made you going and you make friends and this camp we were maybe six months.

It wasn't too bad, huh?

No, it wasn't too bad.

What were the barracks like in the camp?

Barracks like made out of wood, inside was walls from from cement from bricks, and we had the bunks and we slept. I always slept together with my cousin to keep us warm. And the morning we got up four o'clock in the morning. We had to get up and had a roll call, and went to work and went to the kitchens. It wasn't bad, the guys used to go work out out there, out the camp they used to get some food from they used to bring in and share with us from the Germans or whatever. So it wasn't bad.

What kind of food?

Bread, a potato Skin from potato, whatever, you know. And I worked in the kitchen, so with my cousin so it wasn't bad. Then six months maybe passed by, we were sent to another camp.

What camp?

Masselwitz it was called. This I think—

Can you spell that?

M-A-S-L-O-W-I-C-E Masselwitz and we this was a labor camp, too but—

Where was it?

This I think I think this is Oberschlesien or something like this. It was bordered German and Poland something like that. And this was a labor camp, too. We worked at what was harder already, the winters were bitter cold. We had no clothes, whatever we had brought from home they took away from us. But somehow—

So what did you wear?

I had an old dress, I didn't wear the striped clothes. I didn't in labor camp. I had an old dress and an old coat. This is what I wore to keep myself warm because in first of all, we worked in camp in the kitchens so it wasn't bad and that's how we survived day in and day out and you always I remember we used to lay on those bunk beds and we used to say to each other tomorrow it's gonna be over, we'll go home and tell mom the story tell the family. We did know that everybody was going, I didn't know that everybody's suffer. I thought everybody's home, I was the only one sent. I didn't hear from Auschwitz, nothing.

So you all this time thought your mom and your brothers were home?

Yes, yes, I did yes. Because I was the first one sent away from home. And that's all I did since 1942, I didn't see nobody, I didn't hear nothing. I didn't get no mail. I didn't hear nothing from my family.

And nobody ever said to you?

Nobody said to me Bella there's they used to come every day new people to the camp and nobody would say I saw your mom I saw your brothers no, none period. I was alone.

Did you ever say to anybody I'm sure they're at home?

Yeah, I asked somebody how is that doing, they said it's bitter it's it's bad. You're not allowed to walk walk the streets they have a tough life and that's that's all I heard. They told me that there was a his name was, I forgot, Rosner he was just like Schindler. I meant to say he had a big factory. They used to saw by him, and I'm going back now of 193- 40 and my mom got a card from him that she works by them and she used to take me with her because I was her child and my brothers and they used to work at Rosner's. So they had something to show but for me it there was no good anymore a year later, maybe eight months later they took me away to camp. So I knew they're working in someplace there and they they home. That's all I knew. You know what I mean?

So you thought they were working at this Rosner's factory?

At this Rosner factory and they they have an apartment and they somehow survive.

And no one ever said to you?

No, we didn't talk about it, you know, because we had our own problems. We had our own fears. You were afraid to say something, they overheard they beat you up. So you lived a very isolated very to pass by the days.

So you made friends, but you didn't talk about what you thought might be happening?

What we were talking about was we're gonna be freed. We're gonna be liberated. We were gonna be it's something to tell at home. That's the way I felt, we share I shared with my cousin the bunk bed. We were four girls, we were always together.

Who were the other two girls?

One was Rushka was her name, I think she was from Sosnowitz. The other one was, I don't remember her name. We were together, we shared a loaf of bread every fourth day another one what looked big. So every every fourth day another girl took got herself a loaf of bread and we, my cousin and I, used to save a piece of bread to exchange for piece of soap because people were coming from all kind of nationalities, the Hungarians, the Czechoslovakians, dirty lice and we were trying to keep ourselves clean. So we exchanged piece of bread for that and that's what you try to survive. You didn't think what's going on at home.

Talk a little about how you tried to keep yourself clean.

My cousin and I she she was the one who took care of our ration because I was hungry I always I always cried. And I need a piece she said you're not gonna take it because we're gonna exchange somebody gave me a piece of bread and there was one big room that we all baked together. We washed together like cattles you know, it was a long how you can and there was water running and we and that's how we kept ourselves clean. We bathed, we wash their hair as much as we could. And this was the second labor camp. Then they closed this one down and sent us to a third one.

When was that?

This was 43, 1943. This one was called and I don't, I can't remember exactly, if it comes back to me I will tell you. This was a labor camp at again was more girls more men, was already harder. They used to send us out to work in the fields, in the factories. And we didn't stay there too long.

How long?

Maybe six months five or five six months

And what kind of work did you do there?

I was with the girls washing in the kitchen stay. Oh, my cousin always said, "send me to the hard work, leave leave my little cousin here in the kitchen." I was peeling potatoes and whatever there was to cut my fingers, but I worked I had tried very hard. Then end of 3- 43, end of 43, I was sent to concentration camp.

Where were you sent?

Peterswaldau

Can you spell that for me?

P-A-T-E-R-W-A-L-D Peterswaldau S-W-A-L-D. This was already a concentration camp, only women. This I remember vividly. There were we were only women, we we worked in factories.

Where was this place?

I think this was Germany and I'm not sure but I think this was Germany. There was maybe three thousand, four thousand women then I saw already there was trouble. I saw women cut their hair, shave their hair.

When you arrived what happened to you?

When I arrived there, I saw already women suffering thin because labor camp I wasn't wasn't too bad. I had some food, I worked in the kitchen. That was already hard.

Were you still with Bala?

Yes, constant she didn't let go of me, God bless her. And when we got there they we had barracks, we had 25 30 girls in a barrack. They put pails in there, they worked every day another girl had to take out because we weren't allowed, you know, to go to the toilets there was a pail in the room. There were girl dying on us because they were coming from other camps, severe camps.

What were they dying of?

Hunger, dirt, filth, you know, there saw women walking around with lice, I had them too. And that was tough I—

Did you have your head shaved when you got there?

No, no but later on they cut it because I had lice and we we, they assigned us every morning four o'clock was a roll call. All the women, below zero cold weather. My dream, my pray when I used to see homes lit up lights and this steam was going from the chimneys, and I said someday if I live to get some day to sleep in a room like this to in a house like this to have warm house and get up, because four o'clock in the morning was a roll call half naked no clothes, we stayed in line and I had to call your number. I don't remember my number. And took a while till they they got the roll call and they took us together and the streets we had to work, walk to the factories. We used to knock at each other's feet to knock off the snow from the wooden shoes and we walked to the factories. I worked in a factory and we were making ammunition. There were all men working.

I remember from Czechoslovakia and from all kind of Pollocks and but we women were separated. And they gave me a high chair because I was very little and I sat on this high chair and I was working on a machine and making those. And then the evening they took us home and I and we stayed in line my cousin and I and they gave us a little water to drink and we went in a bunk to sleep. We talked to each other, we sang songs to each other.

Tell me about that part. What did you talk about?

We most what we missed, the future, that we soon be liberated, that we'll go home, and we'll we'll have a nice normal life and they have something to tell. That's all what I remember.

What did you sing>

Jewish songs and then Polish songs, and they're telling stories each other. They were elder ladies and they were telling stories. They were women already who were married.

Do you remember the stories any stories?

No, I don't remember no. And that's how we passed by the days. We had to clean up the rooms, there was we knew that they're coming to to for selection for the rooms to see if its clean. We all were very close with each other the girls, and we cleaned our apartments apartment, I mean the barrack. We took care of the barrack and clean that up and some days was like it was a nice day we were outside in the backyard laying then and and and talking to each other and telling this today must be Monday or so. We didn't even know what day it was. You know, I was so young and I was so I I have to say it's very innocent very immature. Sometime it comes back to me and I can't believe it, that that I how I survived because I was very very immature, very childish. You grow up overnight if you have to.

Well, what are the things that you remember that make you feel like you were immature?

The things that I remember, there was mine you you noticed that it was a Jewish, the eldest and she took care of us. I remember that when we used to sit in the barracks and talk to each other when it was rest time Sunday afternoon or Sunday evening they came one, she always came and picked on me, always pulled me out to clean the toilets to she I don't know. She didn't like. She lives now in Israel. Her name was Pepper.

Pepper?

Yeah, in Yiddish we call it Pepper. She lives in Israel when we were liberated. She says was I good to you and I says yes, you were just fine. I didn't want to make any things. And that's what I I was so immature that I was always, you know, in Yiddish they say it 'shlamazel', you know. I could I was always something was wrong with me. I worked on the machine at the factory, I put my finger in in the machine and that in that start swell up and that start blowing on me full of pus. My friends and my cousin said don't, keep quiet, don't say nothing. They're saying, then we heard about Auschwitz and they sent you to Auschwitz. Somehow I went down to the infirmary during roll call four o'clock in the morning and a girl pulled down my nail and put that put a piece of paper around it and said go back to work and keep quiet and we made it. Those that's how the day is passed by. Working, get up in the dawn, and coming back when it's dark and then reminisce about all days about home.

Do you remember anything? Any Jewish things in the camps?

No no, I just remember that this once in awhile at the eldest, the older ladies they used to tell us I think that they look at the stars and they used to say I think this is the month of Passover or this is the month it's gonna be Rosh Hashanah. That's all but what we didn't know how to what was we didn't know that the holidays.

All right, we're gonna stop now this is the end of the second tape.

Ninety-five. Okay, so you were talking about your daily life at Peterswaldau.

Yeah, concentration camp, this was a concentration camp. You saw every day some girls were dying and some they were, they couldn't make it. And somehow you tried to survive. And as I told you, it wouldn't be my cousin, I wouldn't have survived. I was very...

She took good care of you?

Very much so, very much so. She is, I'm very grateful to her. She came to visit me last year. She became a widow, so she stayed with me for three months here and I tried to to do it the best I could for her because she did a lot for me, a lot. And somehow you try to make the best out of it. You worked every single day and, and there was no food, that was getting harder and harder and you were afraid the Germans were already Lager Fuhrer, they were already, Lager Fuhrer means that he took care of the camp, the German and he, and we worked...

Do you remember the name of the man who was in charge of your camp?

No, I don't remember his name, no. And somehow we made the best out of it. We, we was day in and day out, night, that was 1944. The winter was horrible, very cold winter, that was that time and every single day four in the morning, grow cold, freezing cold, no clothes, whatever you had —a 'shmate'—rag a you to put your legs of you know and that's how we survived.

Where did you go? What happened next?

Next was what happened, this was 44, 44 the whole year, 44 was a concentration camp. 45, we heard that this, that it's almost the end of the, that's getting better. Do you hear from people, they were talking to the, at the factories, to the Czechs and they were telling us that the Germans are losing. And by May, 44, they were ready to take us out from the camp and make us, how you call it, make us march with us, but they didn't have time anymore. So we, one day we woke up, there was nobody, they didn't wake us up for roll call, they didn't know, so we looked around, we didn't see no Germans, we stayed in camp. Maybe five, maybe five kilometers from, from mine camp was a men's camp, men's concentration camp, it was called Reichenbach. And the guys were liberated already and they used to come. They came running to our camp to look for a sister, for a brother, for a mother, for somebody. They told us you free. So my cousin and I went out and the Germans were gone, nobody, the town was empty, so we went into houses and took some food. And we still lived in camp, we stayed in camp another maybe two, three weeks, until the Russians came, the Russians came in, they liberated us and they made us, the first two weeks right after the war, they gave us freedom. We can do anything we want. So my, my cousin and I and a couple girls used to go and look for bread, for food, and then somehow we managed to find an apartment.

In the town?

In the town, but four, five, six girls.

What was the name of the town?

Pass, Peterswaldau, this was the camp.

Same as the camp?

Yes. Then we decided we were going to go home to Poland.

Did you, before you decided that, sometimes you stayed in camp, sometimes you stayed in town.

Yeah.

Did you have any trouble with the Russians?

I couldn't speak to them, the Russian. They didn't, they, they, they freed us, they liberated us, but they themselves didn't have much. They told us go and get from the Germans, whatever you can. They, they were good girls, we heard they were girls, they tried to rape them and things like this, the Russians, you know. That's all I remember.

But you only heard that, you didn't have any trouble with them?

No, no, just, I just heard that, no. And then we, we somehow we managed. We had my, my cousin met a guy, which he started bringing her, he was a tailor, he found some material someplace, he made for her a skirt, he made for me a skirt. And they, and that's how we managed. Then we, she said we're gonna go home, we're gonna go, we didn't go far, the trains didn't take us too far.

Did you know anything different at this point? Did you still think your family was at home?

I thought that somebody's alive, that somebody I find, you know. But I was sick, I was very sick.

What were you sick with?

I, first of all, I must have had, I don't know, they in German, they, I had a disease that between my, my arms, between my legs, I had sores all over my body and things like that. And they put me in a hospital, my cousin put me in a hospital and they gave me some shots. I think I had 35, 40 shots, and that cleared my system.

Was this still in Germany?

Yes, yes, by the Russians. Then one day I walked with my cousin on the street and I passed out and she put me in a hospital again, and I had my breast cut, but I'm doing fine. I developed a cyst. I suppose my system was, wasn't so, you know, so all, but I've, and then my cousin went back to Poland and we did.

Without you?

With me, but we didn't go far because the trains didn't go far. The Russians were, you know, all was, from the war was, everything was destroyed and we, you know, and we couldn't go further. So we came back to Peterswaldau and we lived, I lived with my cousin, married the guy, and I lived with her. Then I, then we, we, we saw, we met and he started sewing things for people. He started making, and we were getting food, and it's getting a little, to normalize our lives, you know, but we were still under the Russians. Then people were looking for each other, I didn't find nobody, and my cousin didn't find nobody. Then I, this was already 45 in June, July, I met my husband. He came, when, while I was in, when I was still in Peterswaldau, he was in that camp right about five kilometers from me.

But you didn't know him yet?

No, I didn't know him. He, I met him, he, he limped. He had trouble with the leg because they beat him up, he will tell you. And I met my husband, and we were going together, but I was with my cousin. Then he went, he found out, a sister found my husband, and she came for him. She was liberated, I think, by the Americans, yes. And she came for him, and she, somehow she got him out from the Russian side, that was a torture, too. And I stood behind with my cousin. Then I saw that it's, it's tough, she's married, she's, I don't belong there. I, I missed my boyfriend, my husband. So I told her I want to go to Reichenbach, and I got some, with some guys together, and we smuggled ourselves through to the woods, and water, and all kind of places, and went to the American zone, American side. And then at the American side, I stayed with my husband's sisters. They, the two sisters, they lived five, six girls together, I stayed with them. In meantime my husband went to look for me, so we missed each other on the train.

So when you got to Reichenbach, he wasn't there?

No. So he went to look for me, and he came to my cousin, she told him that I left already, so he came right back. But he was, I, and I still didn't feel good, I was sick. I, his sisters found me with, with the, the sores still and they put me down the American side in a hospital, and I wasn't at a hospital quite a while. And meantime, my, my brother was liberated from some camps, and he was traveling from city to city in Poland, and there were Jewish communities, and there were, on the doors there were all kind of lists with names, and he heard my name, Bella Poremba.

In Poland?

In Poland. And he traveled from town to town, and whoever, whoever he saw, he asked them if they, if they heard of me, and somebody told him yes, they heard that I live with the cousin, and he went to my cousin. My cousin told him that I went already on the American side, so he came to Passau, to Reichenbach, to the American side, and he found me in a hospital, sick. And that was our union, I can't begin to tell you.

Well, try to tell me.

That was horrible, we couldn't get part, we cried and cried. And he was, then we knew that we just left, we are left the two of us, alone. I, I got well and my, my husband to be, found an apartment. He stayed with my brother, away from his sisters, because they lived five, six girls in one apartment. And we decided to get married, this was 1947.

And who decided to get married?

I told him. I said, I don't want to live like this with, and my brother is here. So we decided, and I made himself a little wedding ourselves.

How old were you then?

I was, I was 20, and there was an elder Jew, and he married us. And we lived in—

Was he a rabbi, or how did he?

I tell you the truth, I don't even know, I don't even know if he was a rabbi. We met him on the street and we told him, we want to get married. He said, I'll marry you. We made ourselves a little wedding, invited some of my, my husband's sisters and my friends, and somehow, you know, my husband brought from the Germans. This was the American side, already we had more food and more things. And I made myself a little wedding, and I, I gave a German woman, he gave her, I think, a carton of cigarettes, and she loaned me her wedding gown and I have a, and I got married in a white dress. And we had a small wedding. It was very lovely, in my opinion. Two people with nobody, and, and that's how we started our lives together, this was 1947. I became pregnant, and I had my first daughter, 1948, her name is—

There in Reichenbach?

We went from Reichenbach, we went to Passau. That's not, that's not far.

Why did you do that?

Because there was not much to do, and the, the Passau was the biggest city. My husband tried already to be in business. He was, he went to, with my brother, like what, what his parents did, with fish and, and all kind of things to sell, to make a living, to, to, you know, somehow to survive. So I had a nice apartment in Passau, and I got pregnant, and my brother and my husband took care of, we took care of each other. We had a little business, so the Jewish community helped us too.

There were three of you together in Passau?

That's right, all the years. And I had a little girl in October, 1948, her name is Sandra.

Is that what you named her in Germany?

After my mother, my husband's mother. And they, usually in Germany, she was called Sala, S-A-L-A, but in America, we changed it to Sandra. And we lived it till, you know, 1948. Times were getting, you know, not so good because the Americans were shipping out and the Germans were getting back to normal. So we registered, we wanted to go to America. Took awhile, till they called us, and we went to Bremerhaven, that's the German port. And we, my brother couldn't go on the same boat with us.

How come?

He got sick on me, and he stayed behind.

What kind of illness?

He developed TB, and he, he stood behind. And whatever I had left, I sold the buggy for my baby, and I gave it to him so he can manage. In 19, and that was 1949, I came to America and I left my brother behind. And we were sent from the Jewish agency, the Joint Jewish Agency sent us to Lincoln, Nebraska. In Lincoln, Nebraska, we lived, we had, they gave us an apartment across the street from the Lincoln University, Lincoln University, the college. We lived across the street with a little girl a year old, my daughter.

My husband worked. And I went every day, there was a, to the Jewish agency. I cried, I said, "I want my brother, I left him behind, he's alone." And they, some, they did, somehow they got him. But he was very ill, so they didn't bring him to me. He passed it with the train, he passed me by. He came with the boat to America. He passed me by with the train in Lincoln, Nebraska, but they didn't let him off. They sent him to Denver, Colorado, to the Jewish hospital there.

And he was there maybe a half a year, three-quarter of a year. And they cured him because they knew that I have a little girl that he cannot be with me. And he was, they cured him, then they released him. They sent him to me, and he came to me to Lincoln, Nebraska. My husband found, found out that he has two sisters in Chicago, where one sister came to Germany to look for us, for him. He will tell you later. And he, I, we saved up a couple dollars, and he, my brother and my husband went to Chicago to meet his sisters.

And I stayed behind with my little girl. And that's how we, then my husband came back and he said, that's not for us here. Lincoln, Nebraska is a very conservative town, and it wasn't, nothing, we met some people, survivors there. We got, we got together, we, everybody had a child and everybody had a hardship and to find work to do something. And most of them tried to get away from there. So when my husband came back with my brother, they said, we're going to pack in and we'd go and travel to Chicago.

That was okay with you?

That was okay with me, because I was alone there. It was a very hard, hard life.

In Lincoln, Nebraska?

Yes. My husband worked very hard.

What else made it hard there?

He got the language, I didn't speak English. There was a lady sent from the Jewish Federation, which showed me how to shop and showed me what to get something. Meantime, my husband got sick and, and me, he got the strep throat, and the throat and I had to take care of him. He couldn't work and, and he had a very hard job there. He was washing cars, he was, so he decided to go where he found, where he found his family. So he traveled, we traveled by car to Chicago and he found here one sister. Then he had another sister in Toledo, Ohio. He went to visit to see her, but we settled in Chicago. And I used to live on the west side and I passed a very small apartment on the west side, 13th street. And my husband started working. We had an uncle here and he introduced, the uncle was a paint, the uncle knew a friend who was a painter and since my brother knew the trade, he hired my brother and my husband. And that's how they started working and painting and they, he lived with us and I had Sandra. And then 52, I had, my Thelma is now 40, yeah, 52 I had Thelma, 53 I think.

Talk about Sandra a little bit.

Oh, Sandra is, my Sandra is born in Germany and when I came to Chicago with her, I made her, you know, as she was a child, I never knew, you can't tell when you call a child. Sometimes they're playing and they don't pay attention, sometimes she did pay attention to me. So I didn't, I didn't know nothing. I was young, a young mother and then when she turned five, five years old, I send her. I used to live on Monticello already away from the west side and I send her to a kindergarten. Hibbard School was, the school was called Hibbard, I think.

And the teacher, when she went to kindergarten, the teacher, maybe she was there a week or two, a month, the teacher called me to school to come that they think that something wrong with my child. They call her and she doesn't pay attention, she doesn't hear, and I couldn't believe it. So at that time, I made for her a birthday party, a fifth birthday party and I invited my friends that I met in Chicago and my husband had a big family, cousins. And I invited the cousins, one was, his name is Dave Helberg, he was a principal in a school.

And he sat with me in the kitchen and he said, you know what, I know, I think that your daughter doesn't hear. We calling her and she doesn't hear. I says, you know, the teacher told me, they gave me a paper to go to Northwestern University for a checkup because they think that something wrong with Sandra, but I don't believe it. I said, my Sandra, my, it's a beautiful little girl, she's fine. No mother wants to believe there is something wrong with the child. I went to Northwestern with her to a specialist, I forgot the doctor's name.

He looked at her and he turned around and said to my husband and me, your daughter is deaf, she's hard of hearing. Your daughter has to go to a special school. And that's all I remember. I passed out, I started crying and I passed out. Why me? Didn't I have enough? And when I came to, I struggled, I went from one place to the other to do something for my child. That's all what I have. And I suffered tremendously and that doctor told us that I better become pregnant with another one because I'm taking it too hard, life goes on.

Meantime, I had to enroll to a special school. She went to Bell School. I had to take her out [unclear] and she went to Bell School. That was on Oakley by Western. Every day came a bus and picked her up. We had her tested and she was in one ear total deaf. In one ear she had a little hearing. And she was going everyday there to school.

Let me ask you a question. Did you ever, when you think about this, ever think that this happened because of the camps?

Maybe. Sometime it comes back to me. I was very young, I got pregnant, I was very ill. When I was liberated, I was a sick, sickling girl. I became a woman at the age of 18.

What do you mean, you just got your first period?

Yes. They did something in the camps that nobody got it because so many thousand of women would have been a disease. But even though you get it when you were 13, 14, I didn't because I got sick.

So you didn't get your periods before you went to the camps?

No, I didn't, I wasn't developed enough. And I got it, then I went to camp and I get it when I was liberated. Two months later, I had it my first time. Maybe and maybe, I don't know, they, she had the German measles too, my Sandra so maybe this.

How old was she then?

When I came to this country, a year old. Maybe she had it from that, or so that was that what we, I did, but I was very much involved with her life. I went, my husband couldn't, this was a school that deaf children and blind children worked together. So whenever I, whenever she came home from school, there was a sleeve missing because they couldn't hear each other. So they were pulling at each other, a sleeve from her dress or something, you know, was, but somehow she went through grammar school and Bell School. And I used to live on Monticello and on the north side. And then I had another child, 1952, she's 52. Thelma was born 52. And she was, she's okay. Sandra wore a hearing aid and she was doing very well in school, and life went on. My husband was a painter. We saved some money and we came to then he decided that he wants to build a house in Wilmette, that was 1960. There was no, nothing here, it was a forest here. And some builder introduced him and he made him build a house.

So Joe built this house?

Yes. He work, he painted and the people, the builders he knew and he built with them this house. Then I, when I lived north, I had another child, my son Erwin, he was he is 38 now. So he was, he was born, I think 56. And he was my little boy, we wanted a boy. And that's how we, I did the best I could with my children, I raised them. I went through a lot with my, my older daughter. She had to go to special school. She had to be taught different and we had to, we had to learn, I didn't learn sign language. You will meet her this afternoon. And that, and she went to school, to grammar school. She finished grammar school and, and at Bell School. And then we built this house, and since they didn't have no school for her to go here in Wilmette, so I didn't move. I stayed in my apartment because I wanted my child to have further education. So we fought for it, we went for some, the village of Wilmette saw to it that my Sandra goes to Skokie. She started high school in Skokie, Niles, because they had a program for, for handicapped children, for deaf children. And this is how my life went on from then on, the kids were growing up, were going to school, getting their education. I wanted so very much for them to get the education, to have college. They do have, my, my Sandra had, I had her in New Orleans in university.

Which university?

New Orleans, it was a special, I forgot the name of the school, but she was, there was a special for deaf children for handicapped. And she had some education and I, she went to maybe for a year or two. We took her home and we taught her, she taught typewriting and things like this. That's what she does, she works in the office. She's very, very useful and you'll see her. She's a very adorable little girl. She met a boy who was deaf, a mute. He's a mute and she's, she's, she would call her hard of hearing because she's lip reading. And to him you have to speak by sign language. And that's how our life goes on. I do dream, I do think a lot. A lot of things blacked out of me, I don't know why. I don't know what happened to me. I sometimes, I cry my heart out. I want to remember things, I don't know what happened. I forgot a lot of things. And many a times I say to myself, why me? Why didn't survive nobody else. I'm going to go back. I went to Israel, I found my cousin.

Do you know what? Let's stop the tape now because we're close to the end. And we'll talk about that on the next tape. Okay.

Okay.

Number four for Bella Helberg June 8th 1995. All right, you were starting to talk about your trip to Israel to visit your cousin.

Yes. I went to Israel

When was it?

In the 60s, and I found the cousins of mine, which they gave me some pictures. They were cousins, older ones than I am. They They went in the 8- some of them went in 1938. They had some pictures and—

So they went before the war?

Some of them and some of them went after the war. Matter of fact that cousin that, Bala went in the late 60s. She lived in Poland with her husband, with her two daughters. Then I found a cousin. His name was Shimon Goodman, he lived in Haifa, he was the mayor. I think he was married. He—

He was the mayor of Haifa?

Yes, years ago, I'm going back in the 60s. And he I met him and I went he remembers me because he was from Będzin and he was the one he used to tell my mom when the Germans are gonna come to look for the kids or things like that because he was an elder person. He was older.

So he was one that was the policeman?

His brother. They were they were this was my mom's brother's kids and they were, I think, he five kids in the family. The parents were shot by running away from the Germans. They shot the parents with the brother and the rest of the kids came back to the hometown to Będzin.

So the policeman and the mayor?

The policeman was killed.

They were the children?

They were the children from Będzin that we got to but that we from from my small town hometown. Went to Będzin and this is the cousin that I met him. We used to be together. He was married, he lost his wife with a child in the war and he survived and he was in Auschwitz. He survived with a brother, with another brother, Haim was his name and they went to Israel. He got married, he had two daughters. Matter of fact, I was told that one of them was Miss Haifa years, years ago, that's what I was told. And when I saw this cousin for the first time, he I went to his place and we were sitting and talking.

He told me I want you to know that I shared a bunk with your brothers and they died of starvation. I woke up one day and they were laying dead because of starvation. They didn't make the ovens even and your mom went right to the oven. Because he was the last one when they close the ghetto, he was the last one to go to to camp to Auschwitz, so you know, that's how I know that nobody survived because I have a witness. Otherwise you search, you search all your life. You search for something for somebody. This brother who is alive here. He was searching. He found me after so many years.

He did find me in 1945 in the hospital. That's how I know from my cousin from Israel that how that my brothers died of starvation and they they shared a bunk together and they they didn't wake up next. I woke up, he says Yehuda was laying with his eyes open, dead, and your other brother died the next day for starvation, they burned them. That's how I know I lost my family. Now going back to my to my life in Chicago, I—

Do you want to talk about Bala anymore?

Yes, Bala lived in Poland when I was in America, I didn't know where she was. I was looking for her. I didn't know where she would live in Poland. I—

Did she move?

She from she lived in Poland with her husband with her two kids. She didn't want to go no place. I think late 60s, they they she saw it's not good to be there. She went to Israel and she has in Israel, they gave her a farm with her two daughters. Her husband just passed away six months ago and she heard of me from my other cousins, from the Goodmans. She heard of me and she wrote me since that's how we got together and that that's how we be in contact constantly. She was with me. I spoke to her about two weeks ago on the phone and I love her dearly and I she did a lot for me. She was she's the one that made me survive.

Now I remember something. I will go in concentration camp. I stole two potatoes and I put them between my two legs and I was caught. They took me, they stripped me naked. This was maybe February of 44. Stripped me naked and put me in a room for 48 hours punishment. This cousin of mine laid by the door and beg them, they should exchange her for me, that she's stronger, but they didn't do it. I made somehow next day, I survived and they let me go. That's what I sometime, still today she teases me, "You couldn't do nothing right. You always got got caught with something." But those are the memories what's coming back.

I have to tell you, it hurts. You think about it many times, my husband more than I do.

He thinks about it more?

Much much more, he dreams about it much more. He cries out of his sleep, I wake him up and he tells me so this and he remembers. He went much more you know, men. He was in there. I suffered too. First of all, I was very thin my I was very thin and I was very malnourished I suppose and not develop nothing. So I was delicate and you tried to make the best out of it. I was scared. I was I whatever I was told, more I did more than any then I supposed to do just be perfect not to be punished not to be beaten up or whatever. And now I think about it many many times.

And I I say to myself my mom must have prayed a lot that I survived because I had brothers stronger than I am, healthier than I am and they didn't make it. So somehow somebody was watching over me to make me survive things that I went through and I went a lot too with my child here because it was hard my husband was a working and everything was on me and I had to go to special schools. I had to do so many things than other people didn't do and I did a lot. I didn't miss any any any affairs in schools any things. I always used to to her more than to my other two children and thank God she turned out to be fine. She works, they like her.

Do they have kids?

She has two boys, Larry is 24 and Jeff is 22, 22.

Awe you have you grown-up grandsons.

Grown, two big boys, yes.

What are they doing?

They they working now, but they going, Larry is finishing this year college and he wants to be, I think a PR work and the other one is gonna working and he's gonna go part-time business school. They good boys. They live with their parents, they're very helpful to them and we are very close family. My children mean a lot to me because that's all what I have actually.

They all live here in the Chicago area?

Yes, yes.

Might as well tell us about all the grandchildren then.

Okay, my other daughter is married and she has a little boy, Matthew, he's 10 years old. And I have a son who is 38 and he has a little girl and married, and he has a little boy Scotty and a little girl Rebecca. We call her Becky, my little princess. She's the only, I have four grandsons and one girl.

Sort of like you when you were growing up.

Yes, I don't tell my kids what I was.

You don't tell them that you were a little princess too?

No, I tell my brother told them, I tell don't tell them they'd so always tease me, but they know, they know it. And the holidays they spend with me, my my kids spend the holidays with me every holiday. They stay with us. We go to services. I belong to Beth Hillel since I live in Wilmette, since 61. And we are together with the children, we do our best to make them to provide them with whatever we can. And life that's what's that's the way it goes on the life, we aging.

What kind of Jewish upbringing did you give your children and are they now giving their the grandchildren?

I gave them best I could, the European way. That respect your mom and dad, they do they do, I wouldn't say no. But you know it's a it's America, and they they live their lives, and you cannot say nothing.

So did they go to Hebrew school when they were growing up?

My son went to Hebrew school, my deaf no, Thelma didn't go and my other son and my Sandra didn't couldn't, it was hard for her. But they know the holidays, they know what's about it. They come stay with us. They go with us together to shul and Passover and all those Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur they stay over, they sleep with us because I don't drive, I walk to shul. This is my tradition, I keep up the tradition, they know it. And the kids go to boys, my Sandra's boys had Bar Mitzvah. They went to Hebrew.

Here at Beth Hillel?

At Beth Hillel. They're in Buffalo, she lives in Buffalo Grove, she went to Buffalo Grove and Beth Hillel here. And I made the Bar Mitzvahs at Beth Hillel for them. And my Thelma is gonna make a Bar Mitzvah, my Matthew he's 10 years old, and my son's little boy is starting this year, Hebrew Sunday school. And my little one is going to, she's five years old, she's going to the it's it's a temple, that is what you may call it a nursery three days a week. And she comes home she teaches me Hebrew and she calls me Hebrew names, which I adore it. I love it. They know that I'm very Jewish minded. I miss it this Jewish life because that's the way I was raised.

Do you keep a kosher home?

Yes, or no, you know what I mean?

Kosher meat?

Yeah and that's that's the way it goes on now. You see you know what my friends are dying out, they sick. And you say to yourself I didn't have no teenage life. I for my child I became a woman. And I really sometimes I say to myself, I don't know where I where I learned to cook, where I learned to keep house. Somehow if you have to you do it.

You know it's interesting that you say that cause I was wondering, you said you didn't help your mom in the kitchen.

No, that's right.

You didn't know how to cook and then all of a sudden you were cooking in the camps.

Well you learned from the elders, you know there were women that were much other than I am and you learned from them. I was peeling potatoes and peeling my fingers. I didn't know how.

So you learned to cook from women in the camps?

No I just helped and you learn and you and it's somehow you got you know what I mean. It's— I made the best out of my life because I didn't have any any childhood as I thought said before and I didn't have I didn't have any any teenage life, I went right away to a woman and then I bore a child, which gave us a little problem which it's nothing wrong. She's beautiful, and she leads a beautiful normal life. But still as a mother was hard for me.

And how did you deal with the issue of the Holocaust with your children growing up?

I was we don't, my husband in the beginning, my husband didn't want to talk about it much, but I did. If the movies came up my kids, my middle daughter, Thelma cannot watch it. Otherwise she was watching it by herself because she cries, she pictures me she pictures her dad. She can't and my son if I tell him something turn around he says, "mom please." But they do know, they went to see Schindler's List and they know they know what we went through, they know they see their dad how he walks, how he limps. And now now they got older they know more and they realize what's what went through. They know that the parents are survivors. They are the first generation, my daughter's children the two boys are the first generation because she was born in Germany. Wouldn't you call it? Right and I told them they proud of it, they're so happy. So no, my my kids know, my kids know and I am very much involved in the Holocaust and things.

What what organizations are you involved with?

I am in Na'amat person for years, since the 60s in my temple, and The New Citizen Club and the Holocaust. I was in Washington and I was, I have my parents my whole family a plaque in my temple, my husband has his family. From the children comes Rosh Hashanahs being lit up. Many people ask why so many Helbergs and then the rabbi told them that those are survivors, they have someone they lost so much in the family because they light it up. I have in Florida at a Monument our family's names. I have them in Washington, too so I try to keep it. I should never be forgotten never, never.

And when you heard about this project?

When I heard about this project, I received I went to the memorial service at the in Chicago and Skokie and I got this leaflet, and I let it I I had it in my drawer. And then my girlfriend told me that, then I I heard actually I heard about this project about Spielberg it's doing it on television and I read in the papers. I'm getting the Jewish papers and I read it, I read about it. And I filled out this application, I send it away to Los Angeles, and I had a telephone call two weeks later, which I'm very happy. I hope that my children will remember. Our lives goes on searching. Someday I won't be here. Then my kids' kids will see it.

There was a grandma, grandfather, a bubbe and a papa who were very much involved and I will never, my Jewish life will go on with me forever and ever.

Wonderful.

Thank you. Those are my parents, my mom and dad, this is made 1931. I was four years old. I think this was done someplace on in the forest and the vacation or someplace, I don't remember.

Go ahead.

This picture I received from a friend of mine from Israel. This picture I must be there been nine or ten years old. Those are my two girlfriends, I don't remember their names. This is a school picture, but we did it in a forest someplace.

This this pic this picture we were dating 194- end of 45. We went to a party someplace invited. This is how we looked when we were liberated.

At the end the first pictures my brother Moish he was at this picture maybe 20 years old 22, and they're sitting next to him with the glasses is my brother Yehudah. I received this picture from Israel. Somebody must have sent that there in the 30s. I don't even remember who gave it to me.

This is this I got from Yad Vashem. This is the village where I was born Ząbkowice.

Those are my invitations when I got married. One is in Hebrew and one is in German. That's that's the only thing I have left for my wedding. Thank you.

This is my oldest daughter Sandra. She is now 46 years old. Those are her two sons, Larry's in the white sweater is 24, and Jeff is in the blue sweater, he's 23. And James, her husband, is the same age as my Sandra 46 years old.

That's my second daughter Thelma. She's 42 years old and that's her husband Lou, he's 46. And that's the little boy Matthew, he's 10 years old.

This is my son, he's 38 years old and this is his wife Jill, she's the same age. And my Scotty is seven and my Becky is five years old. This is my pride and joy, my children.