Bea Karp Shoah Foundation Testimony

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Thanks. Sheryl?

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Thanks.

Today is November 1st, 1995. We are interviewing Beatric Karp, whose maiden name was Stern. I'm Sheryl Tatelman, and we're in Omaha, Nebraska in the United States. We'll be interviewing in English. I'm Sheryl Tatelman, and I'm here in Omaha, Nebraska interviewing Beatrice Karp. Today is November 1st, 1995. Could you tell us your name please?

My name is Beatrice Karp.

And your maiden name?

And my maiden name was Stern.

And when were you born?

I was born October 8, 1932.

And where were you born?

In Germany, and the town was Lauterbach.

Could you spell that for us please?

It's L-A-U-T-E-R-B-A-C-H.

And was that a large town?

No, it was a very small town in those days.

Was there a large Jewish population in that town?

I could not tell you how many there were, but we had a fairly large synagogue, I remember that. So, there must've been quite a few Jews living there.

Did you live in a Jewish neighborhood?

That I don't remember.

What kind of a family did you come from? Was it a, a religious family?

Yes. My father, especially my father, was Orthodox, and we followed the Orthodox way. And we had a large family on my father's side. There were 14 children, and on my mother's side, there were five.

So a large extended family?

Extended family, that's right.

What about your immediate family?

And well, my sister, it was just my sister and I.

And her name?

And her name is Susie.

And how old is she, or how, what's the age difference between the two of you?

There's four years difference between us, and she's younger.

And so, it was you and your sister and your parents. Did anyone else live in your home with you?

Yes. We had our grandmother live with us, and also an uncle who was still going to the university.

And you said that you lived in an Orthodox family. In what kinds of ways did your family show that they were Orthodox?

Well, it was, we naturally kept the Sabbath. We kept kosher. We went to synagogue. My father went in the morning and the late afternoon, evening. And it was just an Orthodox household.

What was Shabbat like in your household?

It was like, Friday nights actually, only my father would go to services, and we would wait for him to come home. My mother didn't do any cooking on the Sabbath, and we used to go to, to the park in the afternoons, Sabbath afternoons, and go for walks. I also remember her having a tub filled with water underneath the kitchen sink, and she used to have fish that was alive, fish. And I know that was in preparation for the Sabbath.

Do you remember that as, as a special time, a different time than the rest of the week?

Yes, definitely. Yes, it was always a very special time, and as I got older, I remember my father, we also used to play games. And I still remember one of the games we used to play was Muhle, and it was just a board game.

And you played it only on the Sabbath?

That's the only time really that we used to have for things like that, for recreation. Otherwise, my parents were very busy.

What did your parents do?

My father, he had a, they had a small textile store, but he used to be on the road a lot of the time, and my mother used to take care of the store. And so they were busy all the time trying to make a decent living for us. And my grandmother used to take care of us.

And you said your mother worked in the store with your father?

Yes. And many times, she was alone in the store because like I said, my father was on the road selling the different textiles.

Was that unusual in that time period?

Well, they tell me that it was unusual.

What kind of relationship did you have with your sister?

Oh, it was a close relationship. She was my little sister. But sometimes, as we got older, I used to also take advantage of her. But it, has always been a good relationship, despite the usual sibling rivalries. But it's good.

You were talking a little bit about your parents before. What kind of a person was your mother?

She was, well, sadly enough, I lost my mother when I was, I was not with her anymore after the age of eight. But she, I remember her as being a smart person, business-wise especially. I think she really enjoyed working outside of the home, even though I resented it at times because after my grandmother left, why, then we used to have other people taking care of us. And sometimes I would resent that very much. And my father also, he was, he was a college educated man, and he was also very smart, kept the books. And that's about all that I remember. My father used to have a lot of patience with us. He used to take us many times to the park and for walks, and taught us a lot of things. He's the one that taught me how to read Hebrew, and he taught us a lot about our religion, told us many of the Bible stories, and that's what I remember about them.

And your grandmother lived in your home with you, but then you just said that at, she left at some point.

She left in 1935. My uncle, who, who even tried to talk my father into leaving Germany, he left, realizing that things were not going well for the Jewish people. And he took my grandmother and his sister with him to Israel, or Palestine at that time.

What do you remember about that time about them leaving?

Not too much. I remember mostly the arguments my uncle had with my father. And, you know, my father, he just didn't want to leave Germany, and I think looking back on it, I have more understanding for it. But at the time, I didn't quite understand it. In some way, I was starting to get afraid, and also, becoming insecure about living in Germany. But, my father after all, he didn't know any other language but German. And I suppose to move and go to a different country seemed insurmountable to him, and he had so much more responsibility than my uncle did. So, he thought a little bit more about. And also, he had a lot of faith. You know he was, he had different sense of values. Being Orthodox, having a lot of faith in God, even faith, you look at people in a different way, even. He, he thought for sure that somebody would stop this madman, Hitler, that something would be done. He had a lot of faith in people, but it never happened. And we stayed on, and my uncle left.

And what was your uncle's name?

Siegfried.

And he was your, on which side?

He was my mother's brother.

So, his last name was?

Well, his, his last name is Gottlieb.

Gottlieb. And he left with your grandmother?

Yes, and my aunt.

And an aunt, and they all went to Israel?

Yes, and that was about 1935.

Was there a lot of tension in the house at that time?

At that time, yes, there was tension in the house. I mean, life just wasn't easy. Also, I still remember my parents coming, coming home and being very agitated because they had to go somewhere, an they had to register. And they all received middle names. Sarah for the women and Israel for the man. And that upset them, I remember no end.

Was that before or after your uncle left?

I think, see I don't remember the time element. I just remember that it did happen in Lauterbach.

And you said that even as, you were still a young child at the time, but you were becoming fearful.

I was because I had also, to me it was a frightful experience because I had never seen anything like it. We were playing in the street one day, and suddenly this big tank, army tank rolled down the street. And it just petrified me. And for a little girl, that tank looked absolutely huge. And I still remember screaming and running back to my house. Momma! Momma! And I also because just the whole atmosphere, the way it was, for instance, I remember I played dead. And the reason for that was I used to have nightmares because of rumors that were going around. I used to hear that this one never came back home again. I remember my mother saying, making sure you're home before you're, before it gets dark. Then a cousin of mine was killed, but I don't really know the details, I just know he died. And in those days, children didn't ask questions of grown-ups. So, you just listened to what they were saying, not fully understanding what was going on, but I think that made you even more scared.

Did you understand that it was especially dangerous because you were Jewish?

Yes. That I knew. As a matter of fact, for the longest time, I used to think that it was a war against the Jews. I didn't realize even that it was a world war.

Had you experienced any anti-Semitism in your town, in your school?

Not in Lauterbach. It only happened when we moved to Karlsruhe. And there, I had to start going to school. And it was, the anti-Semitism was rampant. Going to school and coming home was a nightmare because kids would yell after you dirty Jew, Christ killer, and all kinds of names, push you in the streets, and I had long braids so they would pull my hair, and we would teased terribly, and terrible fights would break out between boys. And it was, it was a nightmare, and it only lasted for a year and then Hitler said that the Jewish children couldn't attend school anymore. So, I was not unhappy about it.

You said you moved from, you moved to Karlsruhe.

We moved to Karlsruhe, yes, because in 1936, my family had to give up their house and the store because we couldn't hold any property anymore. And my father, not knowing any other business and not being able to find anything to work at in that small town because it was mostly a farming community in those days, didn't know how to make a, how to earn money for us. So we moved to Karlsruhe, and one of the reasons I think we moved there is because he had a brother living there with his family. And that was a big city. But at first, no one wanted to rent an apartment to a Jewish family, so we lived with them, with that family. And my cousins, they had three children, my cousins, and two of the cousins are still alive today. They live in Israel. And we talk sometimes about those days because we used to slept all in one, us five children used to sleep in one bedroom, and naturally that was . Now we can laugh about it, but at the time it wasn't too funny. And we stayed with them for about, I, I forgot exactly, for a few weeks until my father managed to find an apartment above a bank. And it was a very small apartment compared to the home we had had in Lauterbach. It was, it consisted of only three rooms. You went, you came into the apartment through the kitchen door. On one side of the kitchen was the bedroom and on the other side was the living room. And the bathroom was shared, it was out in the hallway, and we, we had to share it with other people on that floor. But we're happy to have a place of our own.

Did it still feel dangerous in that area?

Oh yes, very much so because by then, I had developed a certain hatred for the Nazis. I knew who was causing all our problems. As a matter of fact, one day, a few of us children were playing on the street. We didn't have a garden anymore to play in so it was the streets. And some Nazis were passing by so we picked up just little tiny pebbles out of the gutter, and we started throwing the pebbles at the Nazis. And at first, it was like a game, but then they got tired of it, and they turned around and started going after us. And we got terribly scared, and we went for our lives. And it was just lucky that we knew the alleyways of Karlsruhe a little better than they did. And we managed to escape them, but then when we went back upstairs to our apartment, my mother was absolutely furious with us, and she said from now on, I cannot let you play outside by yourselves. Either your father or I will have to be with you. So our lives became more restricted.

It sounds like even at that time, you understood that the Nazis had a lot of power and that

Oh yes, oh, oh definitely. I knew that because, well it was, it was just all over because we couldn't just go anywhere where we want to go, first of all. Signs appeared in front of stores saying Juden verboten, which means Jews are forbidden here. So, we just, even in parks, we couldn't go to parks, we couldn't, there are many places, public places, we just couldn't go to anymore. So yes, life was very, very restrictive.

It sounds like things happened in, in your perception, sort of happened gradually so that each

Yes.

Each thing would happen and then it would add on to the next thing.

That's right. Exactly.

And how were your parents responding to all of these new edicts?

It was very difficult on them; I could tell they were very, very nervous. And for, as a matter of fact, I think it was a relief to them it would, in the summer time, I used to go to summer camp. And even though I didn't want to go, I felt so insecure that I didn't even want to leave my parents, and it was very hard on me to leave them, but I think it was a relief for them. I don't know exactly all that went on in their lives, but I just know it was difficult. That's what I remember, and the tension in the household, it was not easy, not easy.

Was that happening among the other families, the cousins and the other Jewish families that you knew?

I think so, I think so. I think there was a lot of tension. And also, the fact is before Crystal Night, there was still a chance of you being able to leave, and there was always this question hanging over our heads: Should we leave? Shouldn't we leave? Then finally, my father did fill out all the papers and did everything he was supposed to do, and, and, and also had a sponsor. You had to have a sponsor, and he did have that, and then it was too late after Crystal Night. Why the doors closed, and one could not leave anymore.

So, this was an ongoing discussion within the family: Should we leave? Should we not?

Right. Definitely. Yes, and like I said, it, it sometimes, there were quarrels about it.

What happened on Crystal Night, on Kristallnacht?

One, well that night, I remember I was asleep already. And I was woken up because there was a lot of commotion out in the street, and so I ran to the window to see what was going on, and as I looked out, it was as though the whole city of Karlsruhe was burning and naturally what had happened was that all, they were burning all the synagogues. And my father and many other men, we found out later, they got dressed and went into the street to see what was going on. And we were waiting that night for our father to come home, but he never did and later on we found out that all the men had been rounded up and taken to a concentration camp. And, but I still remember my mother that night, walking back and forth in the bedroom waiting for my dad to come home. And he never did, and he was gone for a very, very long time, at least it seemed to me. I don't actually know, but to me, I really missed him. And he, it seemed like a long time. But then, one day I would, I happen to be playing in the kitchen and suddenly the kitchen door opens up, and there stands this man. He was covered with mud and blood, and he was shaking, and he was bent over. We had one of those old-fashioned, wood burning stoves right across from the kitchen door. And as he came through the door, he was about to put his hands on that stove. It must have been cold, I don't know. And at that instant, I recognized my father and I screamed, Papa, Papa it's hot. Well, my cries made my mother come into the kitchen, and she took one look at him, and she just was shocked because I remember putting her arms up like that and quickly going towards him. And she takes him into the bedroom, and he was a sick man for a long, long time. After that, he never was himself. He seemed thin and weak and but after a while, I noticed that he would be gone during the day and the evenings he would come home, and he always used to complain that his hands and fingers hurt him. And so one day, I said to him, Papa, how come? How come your fingers hurt you? And he says because I've become a bricklayer. So, I don't know from that whether he was put into slave labor. I, I, I'm inclined to think so but I’m not sure, but he did some sort of hard labor. So that's what I remember about Crystal Night. And then, it was, and it was just, it was a horrible night because after that, things seemed to get even worse for us. My mother

What ways?

Oh I, it just was the whole atmosphere, the whole mood. We were scared. First of all, my mother was alone with the two of us. And life just wasn't good. It was scary. And also, then about a year later, also what started happening was we had the air raids when war was declared on Germany by England and that was terribly frightening. And my parents, I remember, were home now, I mean when my father was gone during the day, but my mother was home, just most of the time, which was which I liked in one way. It gave me more security, but she wasn't gone like she always used to be gone.

How was she handling all the changes going on?

It was not easy. It really wasn't, and she also, health-wise, she had difficulty hearing, I remember. She had trouble with her ears, and I was the one that always had to, she didn't hear cars approach, for instance. And I don't know whether she had trouble even seeing, but I kind of always used to take her hand when we crossed the streets. And I used to say, Mama it's all right, and she developed certain, certain things that were wrong with her.

So, it sounds like in some ways, you had to grow up very quickly.

I had to grow up very fast, yes.

After your father came back from the camp and he was working as a bricklayer, was, was that something that you were happy to have him home? There must have been a lot of sadness to see him like that.

There was sadness, yes. It was like, I don't remember everything exactly, it just when I look, when I think back, and in my mind when I look back on that time, it was a hard time for all of us very much. So, and I remember we had other family in in Karlsruhe, the grown-ups would get together. That's another thing that was a little bit scary because the grown-ups would often get together in the evenings. And there again, you had loud voices, arguments, and for a child to, at least for me, that meant insecurity. I was scared what was going on.

What happened next?

Then the next thing that I can remember was that one day, there was a loud knock on the kitchen door. My mother opens up the door and there stand, stood two gestapo men. And my mother asked them, what do you want? And they said, don't ask any questions, just go and pack. But she persisted, and they became angry with her and, but she asked them, well, where are you taking us? And how long are we going to be gone? And they said, just pack enough for two weeks. So my mother went to the bedroom, and she started packing, and I had a doll in those day that I loved very, very much. So, I go to the living room to pick up that doll. One of the Nazis follows me and when he sees me picking up that doll, he takes a hold of my arm and starts shaking me and saying, where you are going, you don't need this doll. And just the way he said it, I decided he wants that doll. And out loud, I said to him, if I can't have that doll, you can't have her either. And I took her, and I threw her down on the floor and my doll, her face was made out of porcelain, and she broke into many, many pieces. And that made me terribly upset, as a matter of fact, I was so upset that I don't remember my sister or my father during that whole episode. And yet, I know looking back, I know they must have been there. Well, my mother got done packing and we were about ready to leave, and I look around that small apartment and I think to myself, I just know that we'll never come back here again. And I take a hold of the leg of the kitchen table and I wouldn't let go of it. And my mother, she says, come on, come on Beater, let's go, let's go. And she had a terrible time trying to pry my hand loose, but she finally managed, and we walked out of the door. The Nazis took us to the railroad station and there, there were so many people. And I could tell some of them had been waiting a long time because they were laying on blankets sleeping, others were sitting on suitcases, and there were older people wringing their hands and, and, and crying and saying, what's going to happen to us? What's going to happen to us? Babies were crying, it was a general, pommel(?) mess. And everybody was asking the same question, where are they taking us? What's going on? Nobody really knew. This was very early in the war. This was in the fall of 1940. After a while, they put us on the train and now these were regular trains, not cattle trains. And we were, not all of us could find seats, some of us had to stand out in the hallway because the European trains are made out of compartments and just so many people could be squeezed into one apartment. My mother managed to find a seat, but I remember I was against the wall. And the train, after a while, started up and it went very, very slowly. And we traveled for some time but when the train went around the bend, it went even slower, and because there were so many people on the train and it was hot, the windows were open. So, some people decided to jump out of the windows and try and escape, but they didn't realize that there were Nazis on the roof of the train, and they had guns. And they shot these people that were trying to escape.

And everyone in the train saw this?

Yes. Maybe if they didn't see it, they must have heard the shots. But it was just terrible, and I don't know how many managed to escape. I have no idea.

This is take number two with Beatrice Karp. You were talking before about being on the train and seeing, did you actually see people being shot or you heard that?

I saw, I heard the shots. And I, I saw some of the people climb out of the windows. And then the train, it kept right on going. And it went for a while and then it stopped. And it stopped on the border of France and Germany.

And soon, we heard a voice over the loudspeaker saying quite a few things but two things I do remember: One was, if you have any money on you, get rid of it. If you disobey orders, you will be shot. Well, my mother and there were some other people I noticed, they tried to hide money on their person anyhow. But when I saw what my mother was doing, I was petrified, and I screamed at her. And I'm sure she was, I know she was terribly surprised because in those days, you never raise your voice to your parents. And she's, and I still remember her saying to me, I guess everybody has heard you, so here go take the money and get rid of it. So, I went and put it down the toilet. It wasn't even that much money; it was just a little wad. And as I was coming back on the train and along the corridor, I happened to look into the different compartments, and I noticed that the Nazis, true to their words, were searching everyone. And if they did find anything on anyone, they took them off the train and then they lined up all those people, and they shot them. Now I didn't see it, my mother took my face and, and put it in her lap. She didn't want me to watch.

And then the train went on and it was a long journey, I remember. It must have taken about at least two days, if not longer I don't remember exactly the time. I, the only thing that I remember about it is that we didn't get anything to eat, but worst of all, we didn't get anything to drink. And I remember being very, very thirsty.

We arrived at our location and they took us off the train and put us onto trucks. And then they took us to the concentration camp. But the first time when I saw that concentration camp, it gave me a most dismal feeling. I still can see it to this day. Because first of all, you notice the barbed wire all around, and then the rest of it looked all brown, gray and black to me because the roofs of the barracks were made out of black tar paper. The barracks themselves were built out of wood. There was no grass anywhere because it was in the fall. And when we got off the trucks, the first thing that I noticed how muddy it was, and you just sank into that mud. And it was hard to walk because then you had mud on your shoes.

They separated the man and the women, and we had to say goodbye to our dad, even though I know he wasn't that far. The man's camp was not that far away. But still, we didn't see him on a daily basis. And then they put the women in a barrack, in a big, huge barrack and there, they were searched again. And this time it was for gold. If you had any gold fillings or gold clowns or if you had any gold jewelry, they took the jewelry, they pulled your teeth. And my mother, she wore pierced earrings. They were golden hoops, and they pulled those earrings right off her earlobes and to this day, I can hear her cry out with pain.

And then we were assigned barracks. I forgot how many people to a barrack, we might have been like maybe 25 to 30 people. And we were also given mattresses. Well, the mattress was very light, and the reason for that is that it was just filled with straw, and I was able to carry that mattress. My mother and my sister and I, we had to share one bed. And I don't believe that my mother ever had a decent night's sleep. But we were lucky than, luckier than some people because some people didn't even get a bed. They slept on the straw.

And one of the first things that I noticed going into the barrack was a scale, like a scale you would find at the produce department, and I was wondering about it. But not for too long because once a day, they would throw one loaf of bread into the barrack and that loaf of bread had to be divided up amongst all of us. So, one person was chosen, and it worked all right for a little while, but in that camp, people didn't get enough food and they were starving. So, after a while, in order to do the dividing, it became more difficult. The person, the woman had to be more accurate because if one person would receive just a little bit more than somebody else, the other woman would jump on her and try to get this bread away from her. But when you're hungry, it hurts, and you'll do anything, anything to have a little bit more bread. Also, it was hard for her to do the dividing because we didn't have any utensils. I never saw spoon, fork or knife because we didn't, the only other thing that we used to get to eat would be three times a day, a bowl of soup, if you can call it that. And that we just used to drink because there was nothing much in it, sometimes a little bit of greenery.

One day, though, I was very lucky. I found just one little piece of meat. It was very little, but I still remember that piece of meat. I still remember the way it looks, how it tasted, how it smelled, what it felt like in my mouth. And I ate it. I didn't tell anybody. I was afraid that somebody would take it away from me. We used to talk about food. We used to dream about food. It became very, very important to us.

As a matter of fact, once in a while, I can only remember maybe two, three times, this lady, who was from Switzerland, came to our camp. And she used to bring with her triangles of Swiss cheese. Wow, you can imagine when you don't have enough food, how these triangles of cheese, what they meant for us. And, and I say that she came from Switzerland because she used to sing for us, and she used to yodel. Well, the only place you yodel I think is in Switzerland, and she probably came from, through the Red Cross. And so, she would give us these triangles of, and this was just for the children. Only the children received that, not the grown-ups because we used to have, we used to, the children would gather in the back and we used to play games there. As a matter of fact, I learned just about all of my board games from those times. And so, she would hand out those triangles of cheese but there again, the trouble was we were starving, we were hurting, and that little bit of cheese was like, it was, it was like she was teasing us with it. It wasn't enough. So. the older children, the stronger children would take away from the younger ones. And one day, I took the cheese away from my own sister. That's how desperate we got. And to this day, my sister's, that's one thing she will, does remember. She does remember that I took that piece of cheese away from her. And I used to resent that lady that used to come because I used to say to myself, now why, why doesn't she tell the world how bad things are here? I could, I did not understand it.

And to tell you truth to this day, I don't understand that she knew in what conditions we lived because the camp didn't have there was no sanitary conditions. I don't even remember seeing any running water. The way I remember we used to wash is my mother used to catch some rain water in a bucket, and I remember washing with that, but I don't remember any running faucets. Naturally, a lot of people got sick. People suffered from dysentery, and I remember long lines at the toilets, and those toilets if they weren't something. You had to go, they were built out of wood, they were like I think in the middle of the camp. And we had to go up steps because they were not flush toilets, they were just you know, they had big, round containers and, and these were our toilets. And the flies in the summer, it was awful. And many people became very, very sick.

The people were desperate. There were uprisings. There was talk about going, going, getting out of the camp and escaping over the Pyrenees into Spain. And I remember myself at night time urging my mother to do so, but my mother was getting weaker and weaker and she had a terrible cough. And looking back, maybe she had tuberculosis, I don't know, TB, because it was quite prevalent. But she always used to say, I don't have the strength, I cannot go. Because of the talk, I always used, I did listen to grown-ups talk because like I said, we never used to, we couldn't ask questions. Or if we did ask questions, they would say, don't concern yourself with it, it's nothing for you.

And so, I used, I knew where the man's camp was, just by the talk of the grown-ups. And so, one day, I said to my sister, let's go visit our father, please? And she said, you're crazy.

This is the first time you had seen him?

I hadn't seen him. I was very homesick for him. And I hadn't seen him in maybe, we must have been in that camp for I don't know, maybe six months or so. So, I was very homesick for him. And so, when I told my sister that I want to go and see him, she says, you're crazy. And at first, she didn't want to come with me; she was afraid. And I said to her, listen all they can tell us is no, that they won't let us go.

So, I took her hand, and we went to the entrance of the camp and right away, the guard came out of his guard house, and he asked us, where are you going? And I took, must have told him, and I don't remember the exact conversation, but what I do remember is that I became angry at him and I kicked him on his boot, and I said to him, tu sale cochon, which was French for, you dirty pig. And I take a hold of my sister's hand and I said to her, let's go out of here and just don't look back because if you look back, he might shoot us. So, we just marched out of the camp. I still remember marching down that road and we found the man's camp and we asked for our father and they showed us where he was. And he was surprised and overjoyed in seeing us.

And we had a good visit, except for one incident. For some reason, they were giving everyone eggs. They were eggs in the shell and raw. And I could hardly believe it because even in Germany, we, we stopped eating eggs because you couldn't get a hold of them anymore and everything was rationed. So, I was so surprised, and I was so happy because I had always loved eggs and I could hardly wait to share this egg with my dad. He opens up the egg and lo and behold, it had a blood spot in it. And I thought and I knew what that meant because an Orthodox Jew does not eat an egg with a blood spot in it. But I thought to myself, oh, he'll make an exception. After all, we're starving. And I thought, oh, he's going to share that egg. He just has to, and I could taste that egg already. But to my utter surprise, he takes the egg and throws it against the wall of the back. And to this day, I can see this yellow ooze coming down. And I go and make a run for the wall to lick it off. I was so desperate. I wanted that egg. But before, just before I got to the wall, I happened to turn around and look at my dad and what I saw in his face, because of it, I couldn't do it. And I stamped my foot in frustration. I was so frustrated, and I started crying and so he took me in his arms, and he took my sister and his arms and hugged us and he had tears in his eyes. And I was angry with my dad and I didn't understand. And, but he managed to calm me down and that's what I remember about that incident.

And I don't even remember how we got back to the women's camp, but we did. And my sister, she was younger than I and also because of it, she didn't know quite how to fend for herself. I think I was, I was kind of a rebel I was angry. I was very, very angry. I was an angry child, you might say. And it gave me a certain amount of, that being angry gave me a certain amount of strength, and I would fight for myself and I didn't let too many people step over me, I learned that very young. And so I, for some reason, my sister, she was very thin, she was so thin that she could hardly walk anymore. But I still had a lot of strength. I think, I remember once we went, we knew where some of the food was kept and some of us kids and I was always good when I have other people helping me, then I can be very, very strong. And I remember we raided some of the food. I still remember we were on the roof of a barrack and we somehow managed to fry parts of the [?] and somehow get in there and, and get a little bit of food. We used to do things like that. But my sister, she never did those things and therefore she was much weaker than I. And she also became very sick and she had sores. We had lice, we had lice in our hair, lice on our clothing and then she would scratch. And she had sores all over her body and at night, when my mother would take off her clothes to get her ready for bed, she would just scream bloody murder. And so, one day, my mother said to me, you know your sister is not going to last very long anymore. I have to send her away. And I didn't want my sister to go because not only was she my sister, she was also my friend. And I knew that I would miss her terribly. So, I was very upset when I had to say goodbye to her. So, then it was just my mother and I in that camp.

Did you understand where your sister had gone?

At that time, I didn't. I didn't know where she had gone. And that was also part of my insecurity because you, like I said, you never asked questions because you knew you wouldn't get answers. So that again, gave me an insecure feeling. Where's my sister? Where did she go? So, then it was just my mother and I and we stayed at that camp for a few more months and then we were taken to a different concentration camp.

The name of the camp where you had been was?

Gurs. G-u-r-s. And then they took us to Rivesaltes and that's spelled r-i-v-e-s-a-l-t-e-s.

Was it near the camp where you had been?

Not actually, not. The Gurs was more, it was a little further, it was closer to the Pyrenees. And then the other camp, it was more by an ocean, I remember. And it, because it was sandy, very sandy, I remember playing in the sand.

Was it also in France?

It was also in France. It was also southern France and, and there, it was more or less the same thing. It was dirty. I think I was even hungrier because I went to the garbage can, so I was in competition with the mice and the rats. And ate food that didn't, wasn't good for me, poisoned me and I came down with Cholera, at least I think that's what it was. I still remember it written on the wall like on a piece of paper, there was a piece of paper hanging on the wall and it said Cholera. And I was sick, and they put me in a room by myself because I guess it's contagious. And I was sick I guess for a long time. I don't remember too much about that period.

The only thing that I do remember is one day, my father came to visit me, but he could not come into the room. He could only speak to me outside through the window. And so we had a good visit I remember. And I didn't realize that that was the last time that I would ever see my dad again. But he told me during the visit that he was being transferred to Marseilles and that I that I should be a good child. I always heard that from him: Be a good child. Be good to your mother.

I got better and then my mother came one day and took me back to the barrack. And on the way to the barrack, she said to me, you know it's time for you to leave me. You're not that well and you're very weak and you won't be able to last here much longer, so we have to say goodbye. And I did not want to leave my mother. First of all, she was the only security that I had left. And I didn't know at that time where my father was, even though he told me the name, it didn't mean anything to me. I didn't know where my sister was. And even though we were suffering, I knew the conditions were terrible, I still didn't want to leave my mother. I didn't want to leave my friends. I didn't want to leave the people that I was used to and surrounded with because to me, that was the only form of security that I had. So, I gave my mother, I know, a terrible time. But one day, she took me to an area where there was a truck and I had to say goodbye to her. I think it was the most difficult thing I ever did. Excuse me. Because I felt very much just alone. They put us on the truck, and we were about, oh, 15, 20 children, drop us out of the camp and into the countryside.

When you say they, who, who was, who was they?

They was a, they were, it was an organization. It was a truck driver really and a lady. And it wasn't a, it was a French Jewish organization. And they are still in existence today, by the way. And they took out as many children as possible from the concentration camps in France. And they had these children homes all across the southern, central southern part of France. These homes, they were all chateaus. For some of them, I imagine, they paid for some of them, and for others, they were abandoned. They were not very good-looking places. They were big, and there used to be maybe around 100 children in a home. But these homes weren't safe either. They used to be raided by the Nazis.

But while we were there, we learned many things. We learned how to speak French. We had to speak French. They insisted on it. We also grew vegetables. I learned a little bit about gardening. We used to call flowers. And the boys sometimes had to make furniture because we didn't, these, some of these places were almost empty when we arrived. And as girls, we used to be in the kitchen. We used to help cook. We used to peel potatoes and carrots, and I learned how to do that. And we also learned how to, for instance, if we would ever get lost anywhere, how to help ourselves, how to eat certain vegetation, the difference between poison mushrooms and mushrooms that are not poison, even certain grasses. And they told us how to make fires if we needed to make a fire, and they taught us many things. It was a very, I mean it was an insecure way of life, but it also was a very, I should say, it was, it was a learning experience in many respects.

You said it was a French Jewish organization?

Yes.

What's the name of the organization?

OSE. In French, it's Oeuvre de Secours Aux Enfants.

And they were all French people that were in this organization?

Yes, the ones that I encountered were French.

Were there other children who came out of the camp with you that you knew?

Yes, I probably knew quite a few of them. I, you know, you, as a child, you, at least I didn't pay that much attention to that. But yes, they were, sure, they were, yeah, I knew the other children.

But at that point you had been separated from your sister and

That's right. Yes.

Your mother and your father?

Yes, and I, I was, those first few days, I’m sure I was very disoriented.

Did you feel in those, when you were in those chateaus, did you feel safe or was it an insecure feeling?

It was still an insecure feeling because those chateaus were raided by the, by the Nazis. They were French Nazis, but they were raided, and so we were constantly moved from one place to another. Many times, going back to the same children's home, but I remember counting and I was moved 14 different times.

And during those days too, I used to get letters for my parents, and or I should say, they were postcards. And sometimes they were, these postcards, they were read by the Nazis and sometimes there were black lines through certain sentences. But for the most part, my mother knew, and my father knew about it so they didn't, they did not lie to us of anything of importance. It was usually, how are you? I hope that you are studying your lessons well. I hope that you're eating enough and things like that, or that you, you have made some friends and you remember this one or that one. They would write about some of the children still left at the camp but that's about it.

Since we were moved also all the time, one day I came to this particular home, and a little girl comes in carrying a blanket for me. And I look at her and she looked at me, and it took us just a few seconds to realize that this was my sister. And I just couldn't get over with. I didn't recognize her right away because she had a bandage around her head, and she just looked different to me. She had filled out a little bit. And we were just overjoyed at seeing each other and after that, we just never left each other's side. And so that was something very good I, I felt then you know, at least I had my sister with me again.

We heard from our parents until 1940, late 1942 I think it was. Suddenly, we don't hear anything anymore and that was really scary. By then we had heard about there, or there were rumors about concentration camps where they killed people, and we heard about the gassing, and there were a lot of rumors. And it scared me terribly. It made me feel even more insecure. As a matter of fact, I used to go around scratching my head until one spot became completely sore and it was just out of nervousness that I did that. But I used to worry about what's going to become of us. I mean I felt that we were all alone in this world. But let's see what else can I tell you about these homes. That was, that's really about it and we stayed there until 1943.

This is take three with Beatrice Karp. You were talking before about you at, in about 1942, you stopped hearing from your parents?

Yes, yes.

And before then, did you hear from them regularly? How often would you hear from them?

That I don't remember, but I did receive quite a few postcards.

Do you have any idea how the postcards were getting to you?

It was through regular French mail because I still remember seeing the, and I still have them to this day, there was a stamp, and the stamp was of the face of Petain. And they were censored so it was through the regular post.

Did you have any idea what that meant that they stopped sending you the cards?

I, I didn't know but rumors were starting to fly about other camps where they killed people and that scared me very, very much. So, I thought, oh something happened to my parents. And I was very, very upset and felt very, very alone and wondered what, what the future would be without parents.

So, you had already at that point started to think that they may not survive the war?

Yes, I was afraid of it because I, because there were so many rumors about it and how the Nazis were killing the Jewish people.

And that was the last time you heard from them?

And that, that was the last time, yes.

While you were in these different chateaus, who were the people that helped you out through these, it sounds like there were some kinds of adults who supervised the children?

Yes, oh definitely. There used to be at least two or three adults taking care of us. As a matter of fact, I ran into one lady who I didn't know but she made herself known to me. She happened to be a good friend of an aunt of mine, and her name is at that time, it was Santa Lowenstein(?). And she, and she, and she became part of the OSE. And she worked for one of those homes, and she took a special interest in my sister and I’m and that was very nice. And we've kept up the relationship and she made it out of there and lives now in Los Angeles. And I’ve kept up with her all these years.

Were the people who were in the working in the homes were they French Jews, all of them?

There were a lot of French but like, I call her an aunt because I used to think of her as an aunt now. She was originally from Germany, but she, at the time war broke out, she lived in France in Paris.

How did you, did you eat only food that was grown in these chateaus? You were talking about gardening.

Yes, that's why, we did, yes.

And how did you get from one chateau to the other?

Well, some, once I remember we were woken up at nighttime and we were taken by motorcycle. And it was my first motorcycle ride, and it was quite a harrowing experience. And also, it was also frightening at the same time because I remember the cook she blesses, she blessed me and she says, I hope you have a safe journey. I hope everything will be alright with you. And that alone, just her concern, bothered me at the time. And I wondered, what, what's going to happen to us? Then at other times, we walked. And sometimes, and we walked many, many, many miles. Other times, by train. Other times, in a farmer's cart. Whatever transportation that was available, but we were moved an awful lot.

Was it always the OSE that was helping you throughout these times?

Well, yes. During that time while we were in those homes, it was definitely these were all OSE homes and people, their people taking care of us and that, and that lasted until 1943.

Were there other children, were the other children in the home with you mostly German Jewish children or were there other children there?

There were other, I think there were some children, there were a few from Poland I think. And, and that's about it, I think, that I remember. Poland mostly or German and French.

And French. And you all spoke French between yourselves?

When we learned how to. At first, we spoke only German. I know I had a difficult time learning a new language. French seemed so difficult for me. And I resisted. And so, I used to learn in the school room, but then when I was out of the school room, I would speak German again with my friends. And then they finally put a stop to that. They said no, you have to speak French or try to speak French the whole time. Also, they wanted us to learn it because they were afraid if we would be maybe taken some place or lost, they want us to have, to be able to speak French fluently. They gave us identity cards and changed our names, like I was born Beate Stern and they changed my name to Beatrice. My sister was born Susie Stern and then they changed her name to Suzanne. They gave us a street address in Paris to say that is where we were from and they tried to make us as French as possible.

Did you get the idea that it was very important to play along with that role?

After a while, it took me a little while, but after a while, I realized that I better learn French. Yes.

Did you, were you ever afraid to speak German?

Then after a while, I just stopped speaking German because I like the sound of the French and also, I started being ashamed of being German. And I tried very hard to almost become very French and just forget about being German.

Did you ever have any contact during that time with the partisan groups? The marquis?

Yes, the marquis I remember because they were the ones that used to, I don't know whether it was always them, but at times they used to furnish us with the transportation that we had going from home to home. And I always felt that they were kind of looking out for us.

Did you ever speak with those people?

Oh yes, naturally sometimes, yes.

And were they all French people?

I think they must have been French.

Were you, as you said that you were moved from chateau to chateau, were there times when you felt especially in danger?

I always felt in danger. I never felt comfortable and as a matter of fact, when you, when you are, when you always feel like that in danger, I used to play games mentally. And I used to pretend I was a princess in this chateau, and I used to play all kinds of games and some of the women when we got together two years ago remembered me by that. And they all said, ah here comes the little princess. So, I, I did, it was, it, it was very, it was difficult. It was very difficult living that way.

Were you still concerned about your parents? You hadn't heard anything from them?

Yes, constantly. Constantly I worried about my parents, yes.

At what point did you, what time did you leave the chateau or these children's homes?

Okay, it was in 1943. I can't tell you the month. And this organization realized that they couldn't keep us in the homes anymore because Hitler was in a hurry now to kill all the Jews and very quickly. Because by then in 1943, he had established the death camps and he knew what to do with all of us, so these homes were raided constantly, and we weren't safe anymore. So, this organization took some of the children and put them with Christian families.

And then my sister and my case and some of the other kids, we went to hide in a convent. And we went to Millau, that was the name of the town. It was in the central part of France, a little further north, and it was a small town. The convent was very nice. I liked being there, not right away because I had to get used to it, but after a while I liked it. I felt safe there for the first time. And also, for the first time, I slept again between two sheets, and we had food. It's true we had a lot of chestnuts. I remember we used to eat chestnuts twice daily, and but we used to have hot chocolate on Sundays and that was a big treat for us.

We went to church. We did everything what the other children did, the Christian children because this was a boarding school convent, so there were a lot of Christian Catholic children. And the sisters were very good to us. I don't think that all of them knew that we were in hiding. I think there were only a couple of sisters that actually knew what, who we were and what was going on with us. There was one sister in particular I’ll never forget. Her, her name is soeur de l'espoir, and in translation it means soeur, her name is sister of hope, and she looked out for me. And because of the kindness and the security that I felt, and I liked the story of baby Jesus, I had never heard of it before, I had never even heard of Jesus before. It all sounded very attractive to me and I want to turn Catholic. I was tired by then of being Jewish. And I said to soeur de l'espoir, you know it would be good if I would turn Catholic. I want to be one of you. I’m tired of being Jewish. I’m tired of wanting all the time and being hunted. So, she said to me, remember your father's teachings and don't make up your mind now. You wait, when this is all over with and when you're with your own people again, and I’ve never forgotten these words and so I never turned Catholic.

This organization the, the OSE, they still came and visited us. There was always a lady that would come and visit us periodically. She would take us out of the convent and we even went to see a movie once. I still even remember the name of it. And they kept very good tabs on us. We stayed in the convent until almost the end of the war.

One incident happened to me while we were there. The air raids were still going on first of all and that was always frightening. And the sisters didn't believe in going to an air raid shelter. As a matter of fact, we used to go in the courtyard, form a circle and dance around, and the only protection that they would let us have would be a piece of wood to put between our teeth so that if a, when a bomb falls usually like you know everything trembles and, and so like that we wouldn't bite our tongue. And, and that was very, very scary, but they weren't, I don't remember too many air raids.

And the other thing one day, as we were walking to church and we always walked two by two. We had uniforms on. I stood out a bit more than the other children because nobody had bothered cutting my hair. I had long blonde hair. And Millau, the town, was completely occupied by Nazis. So as we were walking along, suddenly, a Nazi came over to me and started touching my hair. And I became terribly scared. And I don't, he talked to me, but I don't remember what he said. And it was lucky that the sister, head of the line, happened to turn around and she saw what was going on and quickly came towards us and started talking to him. But I was trembling, I was so scared. And thank goodness I didn't react to him because if I would have just opened up my mouth, he would have known I was German. So, it was just lucky I didn't say for a change, I was very quiet, and I didn't say anything. And that was scary but that's the only two bad experiences that I can remember in the convent. Otherwise, it was, it was a good place to hide and we stayed at the convent till almost the end of the war. And then this organization, the OSE, took us back again and we went to another chateau. And we stayed there until it was all over with.

When you were in the convent, do you remember feeling confused because you were going to church?

No. I, it really, it didn't, the whole thing didn't really bother me very much for some reason. We learned, we studied the catechism, and I liked the whole story. I liked it. I remember they gave me a medallion of a saint and I had to wear that -- Saint Catherine. And I used to think she smiled at me. I must have had some imagination and it was just a very, you know it was, it just was very nice being there.

You said that OSE came and took you out again. Were there other, you were there with your sister?

And other children and other Jewish children. We were about a dozen Jewish children that were hidden in that convent.

And how many children were there total? Do you have any idea?

Oh, in the convent?

Yeah.

Oh, I would say maybe 40, 50.

So, there were quite a few.

There were quite a few, yes. It was quite a large school, convent school.

How old were you at that time?

At that time I was close to 12 years old.

What did you think when the OSE came back to take you out?

Well I, first of all I knew it was the end and I was happy to be with them again anyhow. You know I mean these were my people and I, and I knew the difference. And I knew that the convent had just been an interlude.

So, you felt more comfortable among the people in the chateau?

Oh yes, definitely yes.

And what was it like there when you did know it was near the end?

First of all, we saw the planes coming over and, in those days, you know, I didn't know from politics, but I remember we saw the Russian planes come. We saw the American planes come. And I still remember hanging out of the windows from the chateaus and, and, and, and waving at them and we were all so happy and we heard about Roosevelt and, and to us he was a hero at that time. And it was, it was great. And yet at the same time, as happy that we were that the war was over with, we all felt so insecure because we didn't know what was going to happen. We didn't know whether our parents were alive, whether there was any family still living. It was also a very frightening time. And yet also a happy time.

How long was it after you left the convent that the war was over?

Oh, I don't, I don't remember that. That I can't say because time didn't mean anything to me. I don't remember even ever looking at a calendar or having looked at the watch. That isn't the way we operated.

When, when were you actually liberated? Was it

It was in 45 and it was, I think it was in May.

Was it by American troops?

You know when you say liberated, I don't know because we were out in the country. We didn't actually, you know, it isn't like being in the city where you see the marching and whatnot, it wasn't like that with us. I didn't have that experience. I just knew it was over with.

So how did you know?

Because of the planes and because of what the other children who were older, smarter than me and what some of the grown-ups said.

Were you ever afraid of the planes?

Well, I was, yes, I was because I even had a bad experience in the convent. We had a terrible experience in the convent once. I forgot about that, it just dawned on me. I remember we had recess and we were out in the courtyard and I, and we were eating boiled potatoes. And suddenly we saw these planes, but they weren't big planes. They were rather small planes. And they were shooting, and they were shooting at us.

Shooting at the children?

Yes. I mean maybe not, not me. I don't know whether they meant to shoot at, I just know they were shooting, and it felt like, oh they're going to get us. Maybe it wasn't even at us, maybe it could have been a few miles away but that's the way it looked, and you know I remember we ran and ran; we ran out of the courtyard. And we were so scared, and we kept thinking those planes were following us. Whether they actually were or not, I don't know, but they must have been German planes. But those planes that came to liberate us were big planes. They were different looking. And because everybody else was happy about it, I was happy because actually I, you know if I would have been alone, I might have gotten scared, I don't know. But everybody was happy, and we knew that this was liberation. So, this was liberation for me, you might say -- the physical part of it.

The pla -- was seeing the planes?

The planes, right, and knowing that the Americans and the Russians were coming to liberate us.

What happened next?

Well then, this organization, they had all us children on their hands and what to do with us because nobody knew where our parents were. So, what they did, at least in my sister's and my case, was they advertised in a German Jewish newspaper that Susie and Beate Stern are looking for any living relatives. And I have that advertisement, but God only knows where I put it. And my grandmother was the first one to read the advertisement in the Aufbau.

Yes, it was the Aufbau, and it's a German Jewish newspaper that circulates in Israel, in your big cities, and she lived near Haifa at that time, and like New York and I know, I saw it in London. I even saw it in New York City, and even here in Omaha when we first came, I think I saw a couple of editions of it. So it's quite a, it has quite a large circulation, and she read it in that newspaper and she wrote to us. She was the first one that we heard from and I was overjoyed. Then soon we heard from my aunts in New York and also my uncle in England and.

Did they all find you through the same advertising?

Well, my grandmother got in touch with them and then they all wanted us to come and stay with them. I want to go to Israel because I remembered my grandmother. I remembered my uncle and my sister want to go to England because that was a shorter route. She says, no, no let’s go to Israel, it's too far away, and so we went to England.

This was an aunt and uncle in England?

Yes, it was the father of my father and he was married, and they had a little boy.

Now what were their names?

Their names are, well my aunt is still living. Her name is Mary Stern and my uncle's name was Siegfried. He passed away a few years ago.

Was this the same uncle who had lived with you before the war?

No, no, no because that uncle that lives in Israel is the father of my mother.

You and your sister, did you fight where you were going to go? Was it a conflict between the two of you?

Well, it was a little bit of a conflict, but I gave in to her because she still was little. She was still weak, and I was more or less to protect, I felt responsible for her.

So, you felt like going to England would have been the safest for her?

Yes, and also then, my grandmother wrote that things weren't going so well in Israel, that they had a lot of problems, that, that food was not plentiful and that it was a harder life. And I think the other relatives convinced us that England would be a better choice.

Did you have, did you have any idea what had happened to your parents at that point?

No, I didn't. As a matter of fact, before we boarded the ship, we went to Paris. And then this lady I told you about, that kind, from the OSE that looked out for us, she, she's the one that took us to Paris. And she was looking for her husband, she didn't know what had happened to her husband. I didn't know what happened to my parents so I would go with her and we would go to certain buildings where they had lists of people and I never did find the names of my parents and she never found the name of her husband. But that was a very difficult thing to do too. We used to do it almost every day while we were there, looking for them.

Your other relatives, your, for instance, your grandmother and your aunt and your uncle, they had gone, left Germany before the war? So, they had, did they have any idea what had been going on?

Yes, a little bit because my parents also had written to them while they were in the concentration camp, so they knew a little bit what went on. They didn't know what had happened to us then after 43. They didn't know where we were or what had happened.

And what happened when you went to England?

Well, it was really a great feeling to live in a house, to have running water, to have food, to sleep in a nice bed, to have a fireplace in your room. It felt great. But the thing that I remember also was the fact that for the first time in my life, I was able to walk down the street and nobody yelled at me, dirty Jew. And it was as though a big weight had been lifted off my shoulders and here, I was, 12 years old, and for the first time in my life, I felt what freedom was all about.

How did you adapt to living with your aunt and your uncle?

It was fine. I learned to be adaptable and my aunt was very nice. I remember she gave me pocket money. I went for the first time, no I went for the second time to movies, but this time I went to many movies. And I made friends. As a matter of fact, I still had the same girlfriend that I had in England at that time. And I liked it there.

I went to school. It was a Jewish high school, but it was very, very hard for me. I had, I had missed too much because I had only had one year of schooling and it was very hard for me because they also studied the Talmud, and to me, it was all quick. I mean I, and plus, learning the alphabet properly because the German alphabet is the old one, is different than the way we know the alphabet. And there were so many things missing, I just couldn't do it. Plus learning a new language. I lasted six weeks in school and that was it. I just couldn't take it anymore.

Also, we had trouble with our feet when we came out of there because we didn't have shoes, so we walked barefoot many times, for most of the time and we had calluses about an inch thick and to get these calluses off was very, very difficult to do. And we had to doctor for that, and it was very, very painful. So, life at first was a bit difficult in that respect.

My uncle, he had kind of like a little factory in his home sewing handbags. And I was very intrigued by that. I learned how to sew on the sewing machine, and I helped him. And then also I used to go out all over London, taking the subway, taking handbag samples and showing them to people and they would give me orders and I would take the orders back again to my uncle and he would fill the order and I would take big boxes of handbags to the various people. I really don't know how I managed to find all these places, but I did. And so, I helped them and that made me feel very good. I liked doing that. So, I, and then my aunt enrolled me in the sewing class, and I learned how to sew and at the age of 13, I had my first job working, sewing and so that was it.

This is tape four with Beatrice Karp. You were talking about going to England and you had gone to high school for six weeks and then it was too difficult for you.

Yes.

Did you ever go back to school?

I didn't go back to school until I came to the United States and then I had to go back.

So how did you find your way around London? Were you able to read in English?

I don't know. Yes, I, I learned fast. As, as a matter of fact, the English language seemed very easy to me compared to the French language and I did learn it much faster.

What, what do you remember about that time? Was it a comfortable time for you?

It was a very comfortable time for me. I liked London very much because I came back to an Orthodox family and also, we lived amongst the (?) whom I like very much. I like their ways. I like their, they are, they're fun. I liked all the singing that they used to do, and they have an easy way about them. And it made me feel very comfortable, very secure and it gave me very much an inner happiness to be with them. And when my aunt started writing from New York that they wanted us to come to the United States, I didn't want to go. I want to stay where I was, and I felt very sad in leaving London and my aunt and uncle.

Why did you leave?

My aunts in New York said that my father's wishes were for them to take care of us if anything should happen to them, so we really didn't have a choice in the matter. And also, things were still difficult in England. It wasn't very easy, it was, being right after the war, the windows weren't even fixed in the house, not all of them, they were still broken. Food was rationed and so my aunt in England she says, you know it would be better if you would go. It would be better for your health and it just; it would be easier for you. So, we left in 1947.

And what was the name of the family that you went to, your aunt and uncle in New York?

Yes, in New York their names, my aunt's name was, one of them passed away, Berta Gottlieb and the other one was married, and her name is Flora Schmidt.

And what was your life like there?

At first it was difficult because they were not Orthodox, they were conservative and that bothered me greatly. And it was hard for me to change and I used to have many fights with them because of that. They had, they didn't have, my married aunt never had any children and here we were, I was a teenager. I was used to doing things my own way most of my life and I imagine I was very difficult on them, so it wasn't entirely their fault. But after a while, we got used to it and I had to go to school and that was not easy. I didn't want to start in elementary school, so I had to go up to the high school and take a test. And the principal said, if you pass the test, we'll let you go straight to high school. Otherwise, you will have to start elementary. Thank God I passed it and it was all right, but it was difficult. I did graduate high school and I would, I could have even gone to college if I would have wanted to, but I had met my husband to be and we wanted to get married so two weeks after graduating high school, we did get married. And

And was he American?

He was American and had always lived in New York City, but he never liked New York very much. So, after we were married, we drove his car and we, our honeymoon was going to Canada and going west. And we came to O’Neill, Nebraska. And there, he, his sister was living there, and husband and the husband was in the grocery business and so my husband started working for him.

And you lived in O’Neill Nebraska?

We lived in O’Neill, Nebraska but then we also moved to many little towns because as my brother-in-law would open up different grocery stores, my husband would go and manage these stores, and so we moved around quite a bit. Also, in the meantime, I gave birth to four daughters and I didn't, I didn't mind living in those towns except that I missed not being with Jewish people and that was rather hard for me. But in one way, it was also good for me because I found out the difference, you might say, and in some respects, it has made me very much Jewish. As a matter of fact, my whole life has made me very, very Jewish, and we had a good life though, together, my husband and I. And then when the children, when the oldest one was 12 years old, I insisted we moved to a city where there is a Jewish community, and we moved to Sioux City. And we lived there for about two years and then moved to Omaha.

When you first came to the United States both in New York and in these small towns in Nebraska, how did, did people listen to your story about what had happened to you in Europe?

Actually no. When I came to New York, nobody wanted to talk about it. In England, nobody want to talk about it. I wanted to but nobody did, and I couldn't believe it. I couldn't quite understand it and I still don't. Then because nobody wanted to listen to me, I didn't say anything anymore.

When you say nobody, not the people in your family?

Nobody, nobody because they would start crying. They just could not cope with it. Nobody could cope with it. Then when I married my husband, that's the first time, naturally he was curious, and he wanted to know so I unburdened myself to him but nobody else. And so that was that. You know, I kind of forgot about it and then came the Eichmann Trial and we lived in O’Neill at that time. Suddenly people were starting to ask me, but they also got curious. What had happened was I was, I was a bit shy and especially living amongst the non-Jews, and so my husband said to me once, you know I want you to take the Dale Carnegie course. I think that would help you a lot and I, I, do you know what the Dale Carnegie course is?

Not really.

Well, it's a course where you learn how to speak publicly if you are in business, how to be a better business person, just to better yourself. So I took this course and you had to tell stories about when you were a child in front of everybody, you know some stories. So well I had to tell about my childhood, that's the only childhood I had, and amongst these people listening to me was a teacher, and he told his wife about me. And one day, his wife asked me, would you talk about your experiences during the war? And I said, oh no I couldn't do it. So I came home, told my husband about it and he says, yes you can. I want you to. It's very, very important. And he was really the one that showed me the importance of doing something like this. So I talked the first time at a teacher's tea and I, I talked to them for about an hour and from that, the teachers asked me to come to their various schools and I’ve been busy ever since talking about it off and on.

When you first talked about it, was it difficult for you?

It was terribly difficult. I used to cry practically through the whole thing. It was awful, but you know in one way, it was good for me because by repeating it so many times, it became easier and psycho, psychologically, I think it was very good for me to not to keep all of that inside.

Is there anything else that you'd like to add that we haven't talked about? You, you were married, you talked about being married.

Yes, I was married to a wonderful man and sadly enough, he came down with cancer, and he died in 1987. And I used to go to synagogue a lot and say Kaddish and Harold, my husband now, he lost his wife six months prior to when I had lost my husband. And he was also going to synagogues and Kaddish. And I didn't really notice him until one day, he was saying his (?) and I was impressed by it, and I asked who he was and then we used to start talking to each other, saying hello and that's the way the whole thing developed.

And when were you married again?

And then we were married in 19, 1991.

And you said you have four children from your first marriage?

Yes, yes, four lovely daughters. And they are all married, and I have six grandchildren.

And you, have you gone back to Europe since the war?

Yes, several times. In 1985, my late husband wanted to take the journey that I had taken during that time, during the war years. And we did it except for the concentration camps but we went to see all the chateaus and we saw the convent. We went to Paris, to the office of the OSE. As a matter of fact, they are the ones that gave me a lot of the records that they have kept over the years. And my husband took a lot of pictures and it was an interesting trip. Nothing was quite the same as I remembered it. Everything was much smaller, but it was good for me, and in, and also it reinforced my thinking about this whole thing and my speaking because sometimes you doubt yourself, and you think, did this really happen? And because you don't have no one to talk to about your experiences because I could talk to my sister about it but she doesn't want to talk about it. So, I’m all by myself thinking about what has happened to me. And I can never say to anybody, well do you remember this, or do you remember that? And, but two years ago, this organization, this OSE organization had a reunion of all of the children they had saved from the French camps, and that's when we were able to talk to other women and say, well do you all remember? And that was a wonderful, wonderful feeling. I was able to talk to them about mutual people that we both remembered, incidents that we remembered, and it was very, very good.

Do you stay in touch with any of those children from that time or any of the people?

You know, it's a strange thing but we don't stay in touch, not really. Once in a while, but not, no not on a regular basis. We all lead separate lives. A lot of them just speak French, they don't speak English so it's very hard to communicate. Just a few speak German, but we don't, I only know one person here that went through the same thing and I’ve known her since Germany, and she lives in New York and we don't communicate that much either. I don't know why, why that is. Maybe because they're part of a past that we just as soon forget. We don't really want to remember it. And yet I know it's important that we do and that's why I do the speaking.

During the war, did you think that you would survive?

No, I, I, I was, that was part of my insecurity. I really didn't know whether I would survive or not or that we would.

Is there anything that you'd like to add that we haven't talked about?

No, I really can't think of anything. I think I told you pretty much everything. I feel that the only thing that I can say is that my past has taught me an awful lot. It has taught me how important Jewish communion life is and right now, I’m a little worried about it because I feel that we have splinted ourselves too much, and I don't think it's good to be divided. And to have such big chasm, is this the correct word? Amongst us, it's to our detriment. And I worry really about Jewish survival as we know it because of this even. I think that to me is more of a threat almost that than intermarriage even though I’m very much against that. But this is what worries me the most right now is what is going on right on amongst our Jewish people.

Well thank you very much for sharing your story with us.

Thank you. This is my father. This picture was taken in the early 1930s in Lauterbach, Germany. His name is Moritz Stern.

And how did you get the picture?

The picture was given to me by my aunts in New York after the war when we came there to New York City. This is my mother. Her name is Rosa Stern. And this picture was taken in Lauterbach, Germany in the early 1930s and it was given to me by my aunt in New York City after the war. This is a picture of my grandmother. Her name was Jeanette Gutley, and this picture must have been also taken in the 1930s early and it's also a picture of my sister and myself and it was taken in Lauterbach. This is a picture of me taken in our home in Lauterbach, Germany, when I was about two years old. This is a picture taken in Lauterbach, Germany of my sister Susie and I and it must have been like 1936 or 7. I’m on the left-hand side of the picture and my sister is on the right. This is another picture taken in Lauterbach, Germany of my sister Susie and I, and I am on the left-hand side and she's on the right. Picture was taken in France and it was after we left the concentration camp, and we were in those children's homes that they gave us new identity cards and that is also when they changed our names. This is a xerox copy of my identity card that was given to us when we were in those children homes and this the original card now is it the Holocaust museum in Washington D.C. This is the, a picture of a wedding that I was part of and I’m the second girl from the left. It was a marriage at the first chateau that I was at and the lady that's being married, her name is Vivette and she is also the one that rescued us and took us out of the concentration camp of Rivesaltes.

How did you get this picture?

And the picture, I saw it hanging in Paris while attending an OSE meeting. We were about 200 people that got together, and these are all the people that were rescued from the concentration camps in France by this organization, the OSE. And they had these pictures that were taken during those times in a room and the, the walls of the rooms were covered with pictures. And I found myself in this picture and several others but that's the only picture that they would give me. This is a picture of my marriage to Robert Pappenheimer. We were married in 1951, July 4th in New York City. And we were married for 36 years. In 1987, my husband passed away from cancer. Here I am, surrounded by my four daughters. On the right is, her name is Rosanne Pappenheimer Hornstein. She's married to Mark and has two girls, Rachel and Arielle. Then above her is Deborah Pappenheimer Sanders and she has one boy, Benjamin, and her husband's name is Arthur. Next comes Jeannie, next to her is Jeannie Sashnik and she's married to Bob, and they have two children, Leah and Michael. And after that comes Nancy, and she's married to Howard Kutler and she has one son, Danny Krantz. This is Danny Krantz, he's my oldest grandson. He's 13 years old and he lives in Omaha. This is Michael and Leah Sashnik. And Michael, he's 12 years old, and Leah is nine and they live in St. Louis. This is Rachel Hornstein, and she lives in Boston. She is eight years old. This is Benjamin Pappenheimer and he's seven years old and he lives in Des Moines, Iowa. This is our Yale Hornstein, and she is four years old and lives in Boston. This is a picture of me and my husband. We were married in 1991 in January in Omaha, Nebraska.

And his name?

And his name is Harold. I would like to introduce my daughter, Nancy Kutler.

Nancy, what has it been like for you when you've heard your mother talk about her story and her experiences in her childhood?

It's been very interesting, and it's hard to comprehend that this has happened to my mom and it's something very, it's hard to grasp.

How do you think it's affected you, being a child of survivor?

I think I look at things a little differently than most. My parents, you know, let us know that Judaism was a very important aspect in our lives and I’m glad they stressed that. And it's been very important to, you know, continue.

What, how has it made a difference in the way that you're raising your son?

I try to, you know, stress to him the Judaism, that it is important. I have a little bit of different circumstances though my son does not live with me, so he lives with his father and stepmom and they're not as, his dad is not as Jewish. So, it's from my aspect, I can only stress as much as I can.

What message do you have to, to your son and to your nieces and nephews about what your mom has been through?

You know, mom would say it'd be very important to marry somebody Jewish. She ingrained that us, in us and I would like you know for them to marry also somebody Jewish and carry on the tradition.

And what if, how is it for you to have your, your daughter here Bea, with you?

Well, it's, it's emotional to say the least. And I’m very proud of her and proud of my other daughters because they're very good people. But above all, they're very good Jewish people and they know our values, which I think are very important and I think they're trying to give those values to their children.

Have you spoken with your grandchildren about your experiences in the Holocaust?

Yes, I do. I have always been very open about it because I think it's important that they should know.

Thank you both for participating and thank you for coming.

Well thank you for doing this.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.