He doesn’t know!
I feel a sudden jolt as I listen to my oldest grandchild deliver his Bar Mitzvah speech. Being orphaned from my own grandparents, I don’t take my role as a grandmother, or being able to take part in this Bar Mitzvah celebration for granted. Grandparenthood comes with its unique privileges, but it has its own set of responsibilities too. It hit me that this Bar Mitzvah celebration was taking place only weeks before the 82nd anniversary of Kristallnacht - the night the Bar Mitzvah boy’s great-great-grandfather, Hugo Alperowitz, was arrested by the Nazis for being a mohel, chazzan, shochet and teacher of Torah.
His home was ransacked, and his library of Jewish books was removed and burned while his wife and seven-year-old daughter (my mother) stood defenseless and terrorized as they witnessed his arrest and the ensuing carnage.
I suddenly realized that I had yet to tell my grandson this piece of family history. It belongs to him and I’ve neglected to hand it down. How had I allowed myself to collude with my parents and continue their legacy of silence?
Although my father was a Holocaust survivor and my mother a Holocaust refugee, they almost never spoke to us children about what they went through. Thinking about it more, I had to acknowledge that I too had passed this legacy of secrecy to my own children. They knew that my parents, their grandparents, had lived through the Holocaust, but details were less than scarce. I had few details to share with them. It wasn’t until my children became young adults that I found the courage to try to discover more about what my parents had gone through.
Burying the memories and feelings might have seemed like the best thing to do, but when feelings aren’t processed, they get buried alive.
I understood my parents' motivation to shield us from knowing about the atrocities they survived. Exploring their personal history was frightening. I wondered whether I had the emotional resources to confront the discoveries I would make. My parents did not pass on information, but they did pass on the trauma and the mere thought of knowing more felt traumatizing to me. Burying the memories and feelings might have seemed like the best thing to do, but when feelings aren’t processed, they get buried alive.
This became clear to me years earlier when my father began talking to me about Mauthausen, another story the Bar Mitzvah boy doesn’t know. My father had never spoken about his years in the labor camps, so it surprised me when he began telling me about it. He said he was a physically strong teenager, and, like thousands of other Polish Jews, he worked in the quarry moving heavy stones. One day, he was carrying an unusually heavy stone, and while struggling with its weight, dropped it on his foot. It probably fractured his bones and he could barely stand.
Hugo and Ida Alperowitz
They transferred him to kitchen duty for a short time. He told me that this was glicklich, fortunate, because while working in the kitchen, he might get away with stealing a few potato peels. It was risky but he was starving, and stealing the peels seemed worth the risk. He wanted to share his good fortune, so my father passed some scraps to his friend. That fellow was not so fortunate. The Nazis caught him gripping the peels in his hand.
My father quivered uncontrollably and sobbed. I realized that he had never spoken about it in the forty years since it happened.
When my father reached this point in his narrative, his body started shuddering. I had never seen anything like it before. He was quivering uncontrollably and sobbed. I realized that he had never spoken about it in the forty years since it happened. His feelings, the feelings he never allowed himself to feel before, overwhelmed him. My father was indeed a strong man. He carried the quarry stones during his years in Mauthausen, and he carried the memory of watching his friend die for the crime of having potato peels my father had given him.
I don’t really want to tell the bar Mitzvah boy this story either. Like my father, I prefer to keep it buried. I think again about his great-great-grandfather, Hugo Alperowitz, his great-grandmother, my mother, their untold story and my grandson’s unclaimed legacy.
Kristallnacht, The Night of Broken Glass, was an atrocity that forced my grandmother to seek refuge in Switzerland, her country of birth. After she placed my mother in a children’s home, she took the risk of returning to Germany to free her husband from Dachau. My seven-year-old mother remained in the children’s home for months, not knowing if she would ever see her parents again.
Often, traumatic memories cannot be expressed verbally because they're not encoded with words; they're expressed through vivid sensations and images. Both my father and my mother showed me this; my father when his body trembled recalling that fortunate day in Mauthausen, and my mother, by remembering nothing about her life following Kristallnacht. To this day, all she recalls is the heavy thumping of the Nazi jackboots approaching her house, the pounding on the door, and her body freezing in terror.
Our bodies express our emotions, and it is no wonder that thirteen years ago, when I received the news of my grandson’s birth, I began dancing; an expression of pure joy. Thirteen years later, I watched the Bar Mitzvah boy dancing and singing with his friends. The boys sang songs of thanks, songs of Jewish pride, and songs of eternal hope. Although there was a broad smile on my face, my lips were quivering, and my body was trembling. Tears streamed down my face - tears of joy mixed with tears of sorrow.
After I videoed the boys dancing, I fantasized about going back in time with this video clip. Would the thousands of prisoners in Mauthausen have believed me if I had told them to look at the future? Could they believe that the Jewish people would not be completely extinguished in the crematoria, that not everyone would be martyred, that not all of them would turn into a wisp of black smoke, ascending towards heaven?
I wondered why my body trembled and why I couldn’t remain focused on the joy of the moment. What message was my body expressing? Was it related to how my father’s body shook as he told me the story of the stolen potato peels?
I’m sure it was. I am more an artist than a scientist, but the science of epigenetics reveals that the history we share with our parents begins before we are born and even before we are conceived. The precursor cells from which we developed were in our parents’ bodies before our conception, and these cells were impacted by the trauma our parents experienced. According to the pioneering cell biologist, Bruce Lipton, “[s]ignals from the environment could operate through the cell membrane, controlling the behavior and physiology of the cell.”
Mark Wolynn, a family therapist and author of the book It Didn’t Start with You, explains, “We now have a window of understanding into how cellular memory is transferred in the womb from a mother to her unborn child. The mother’s emotions such as fear, anger, love, hope, among others can biochemically alter the genetic expression of her offspring.”
Parents' chronic emotions can be imprinted on their child, impacting how the child will respond to their environment. Epigenetics helps me understand why I trembled and cried when I saw a group of thirteen-year-old boys dancing, having fun, and celebrating my grandson’s transition into adulthood. It helps me understand why I sometimes feel alone, even when surrounded by my loving family. The untold stories of my life as the daughter of Holocaust survivors yearn for release through expression, and what I’ve written here is the beginning of my own story - just the beginning.
(5) Sierra Muse, November 9, 2020 8:47 AM
One Woman's Courage
The study of epigenetics is new to me (I've heard of race memory, however) so your poignant story has opened a door for me to pass through in search of more complete understanding of the human condition and my own deep empathy for others' suffering and inherent soul sadness as a second generation American whose own grandparents were born in Eastern Europe and left for America in 1887-88. That took courage to do. My grandmother, Julia Lipka, never saw her sisters Sophia and Regina again. It took courage for you to share your grandparents' traumatic Holocaust history with the rest of us who have lived sheltered lives by comparison. Thank you and bless you and your family.
(4) Carole Kass, November 8, 2020 4:43 PM
Phenomenal family history and understanding of how pur legacy affects us.
Michelle, I am so impressed with all your poignant family stories. Your talent imparting them to the world is amazing. I am so proud to call you dear friend. I miss seeing you and hearing your wisdom from the heart.
(3) Bobby5000, November 5, 2020 3:42 PM
but why no response
But why didn't the Jews fight back. There was a cascade of horrors but very limited resistance and even it did occur was somewhat effective. Do note, the Germans suffered massive casualties in the millions but murdering Jews turned out to be one of the safest activities.
Asked to gather 10,000 Jews, a German officer might say there will be tremendous difficulty and risks, we will face snipers, hidden bombs, attacks, and more, with the action taking months. The superior someone like Eichmann would laugh, this job is far easier, you simply go to a Jewish leader, explain there will be a relocation, he may quibble for a moment and then say the Gestapo can come in or he can cooperate, and virtually of all the Jewish men, women, and children will report in an area with valuables, take them, create a line and check for any weapons which will be rare, separate a few useful men and women for slavery, move them to an area and then the shooters can easily and quickly kills thousands.
Note on 9-11 after seeing the attack, passengers fought and successfully saved thousands. Had the German Jews targeted utilities or other sensitive areas, substantial damage could have been done and the war effort and Hitler's image damaged, saving millions of lives.
One outgrowth of the Holocaust was the State of Israel, filled with Jews who survived the Holocaust learned its lessons. Israel quickly acquired and refined a military capability. It obtained good intelligence and accepted it, when someone said we should get rid of the Jews, we assume they mean it Begin explained. If killing Jews from 1935-45 involved little risk, Israelis created a policy of fierce retaliation, despite protests of the world. Israel would not rely upon the protection of others. I feel the story of the Holocaust and how the lack of resistance heightened the tragedy should be told to rebut the common statement that the Israelis are aggressive and militaristic.
Rachel, November 5, 2020 11:25 PM
Never blame victims
If you leave your car unlocked and it’s stolen, that is the thief’s fault. If a woman walks home alone at night, she does not deserve to be assaulted.
And those murdered by anyone, including the Nazis, should not be blamed for their own murders.
Barb, November 9, 2020 5:59 PM
Armchair generals are a dime a dozen!
It's all too easy to inject one's fallaciously simplistic ideas into historical events.
Get real and think beyond the stereotypical "sheep to the slaughter" mantra!
Find reliable sources that report on the moral courage exhibited by so many under unspeakable conditions: despite this documented fact, those who were hunted and imprisoned never succumbed to the bestial behavior of the beasts who tormented them.
As you've said, any attempts at physical resistance hardly made a dent, but Jews' ethical behavior remains inspirational.
Your point about Israel is well-taken, but only if emphasis is correctly placed on the Jewish state's remarkable restraint in dealing with enemies who wish to destroy it and rewrite history to justify their vile plans and vain hopes -- "ki imanu Keil!"
Gitel, November 10, 2020 6:19 PM
Bobby5000 -- What would you do?
Bobby5000 ----
What would you do if soldiers came fully armed knocking on your door right this moment? Perhaps you could run out your back door only to be gunned down by these soldiers.
My family were not soldiers equipped with military knowledge and an abundance of weapons. My family consisted of grandparents, mothers with babies and law abiding spouses.
The Germans out lawed guns, had an army that served as Hitler's robots and Jewish Lives DID NOT Matter !
The Jewish and non Jewish forced labor did sabotage bombs in that war.
My Uncle serving in WW2 as a heavy duty machine gunner in the US army said that there were dummy bombs that never exploded.
The Jewish and non Jewish forced labor did what they could under horrific circumstances to save lives,
I hope and pray that you and I never experience armed soldiers banging on our doors and thus ''hunting'' us down !
(2) Sally Singer, November 2, 2020 9:30 PM
I got all farklempt reading Michelle’s reaction to laughter & dancing @ her grandsons’s bar mitzvah
Any article or personal experience w/holocaust overtones written by Michelle Halle is one I can relate to. There are such similarities in our stories & upbringing. I hope one day to meet in a professional manner so we can unveil our similarities & deal w/the drama & how it shaped us into From childhood to adult
(1) Stephanie Rosenberg, November 2, 2020 1:33 PM
So beautiful
Thank you Michal, just another beautifuk, inspiring and educational article masterfully written.