Story 1
The Letter
Submitted May 2017
When Temple Emanu-El’s Rabbi Glickman asked me if I’d like to present a special object for tonight’s Yom Hashoah event, I realized that this copy of paper is the only connection that I have to my grandparent’s existence.
On July 18th 1942, Max and Regina Klaber, my father’s parents, wrote their last letter to my father, who was the youngest of their six children.
Within four weeks after writing the letter, my grandfather Max was brought to Theresienstadt, where he died due to starvation and sickness. In mid August, my grandmother was sent to Auschwitz where she was systemically eliminated.
“Albert” referred to in this letter was my father’s brother, who perished undergoing medical experiments in Auschwitz. The reference to medals was an attempt to get my grandfather’s WWI Medals, an effort to prove his patriotism and value to Germany.
For those wondering what happened to my father, he had decided he was not going to turn himself in of his own free will. He survived two years of hiding in Holland with several close calls that threatened the lives of the ten fortunate souls protected by a noble Dutch farmer named Lievestro and his family.
It is tragic to know that shortly after the war, Lievestro was killed in a supposed hunting accident, shot in the back by a local game warden known as a Nazi sympathizer. But there was not enough evidence to convict him.
Lievestro and his family are honored on the Avenue of the Righteous at Yad Vashem.
It is believed that this letter was written at a collection point, outside their hometown of Borken, where the Jews of the town were forced and herded together before transport.
The first part of the letter is written by my grandfather, the second by my grandmother. It has been translated from German.
July 18, 1942
Dear Herbert:
I am writing to you on a borrowed typewriter so that I may not write to you anything illegible. Albert wrote and asked me to send him immediately photocopies of my medals. Unfortunately I cannot and am not allowed to do this, so I am asking you to please send Albert the enclosed letter.
As you may have heard, most of those from here have been sent away especially those up to age 65 all went to Warsaw. The older people, over 65, handicapped people and those who had received war medals, should be resettled in the near future in Theresin (Bohemia), we too belong to these. I consider this a good omen, that we are favored to be sent there. Aunt Jenni and Julius will also go there, as well as those from Raesfeld, and so we will meet there all together. God will be with us and will lead us toward what is best, so that we may see you, dear children, soon again. It has been the longest time now. Right now we are still here but when our time comes and we will have to leave we will be brave and keep ourselves as healthy as possible for you, dear children. We will always write to you as often as we can. At first probably best to your address. It must be a comfort to you that at age 65 and with our war medals we are being sent to Bohemia, namely Theresin, instead of P. It is supposed to be very beautiful there. They say that the younger ones who are already working there are supposed to take care of the old people completely, and that everything is prepared for us already. So you don’t have to worry about us, dear children, especially since peace will soon be in sight. You may also want to notify the children in H about us and ask them in our name to please not worry about us. God is with us and we fear nothing. You too have to think this way, then everything will go well. He has protected us until now and He will continue to protect us and take care of us until peace is here. The main thing is to stay healthy, to do nothing bad, but always keep the ten commandments in sight. For this test which God has bestowed upon us He will bless us and He will raise up all those who are of heavy heart now, for this too will lead to the best.
Receive for today the most affectionate regards and kisses from your
loving
Father
Dear Herbert:
I too want to add a few words as hard as it is for me to do that. We have to submit to the fate that God has bestowed upon us. Hopefully we will meet you, children, again. You, dear Herbert be devout and God fearing and think of your beloved parents. We will write again before our departure. So, dear Herbert, give our regards to all our friends. You dear Herbert be affectionately greeted and kissed by
your loving
Mother
Neil Klaber shared this story at Yom Hashoah services held at Temple Emanu-El on April 23, 2017. If you’d like to read the story of Neil’s father and the Dutch farmer who helped him hide in safety for two years, please e-mail Neil at nklaber@comcast.net for a copy.)
Story 2
Healing Old Wounds: My Trip To Borken, Germany (November 6- 10, 2008)
On a blustery fall day, cool and damp, with leaves falling and the sun trying to peek through the clouds, my younger sister Rena, younger brother Larry, and I arrived in the town of Borken, Germany, in what is known as the Munster region (in the northwest part of Germany, twelve miles from the Dutch border). In spite of the weather, the tranquil setting and the calming effect of the wind rustling through the trees made for a beautiful late afternoon backdrop at The Hotel Linderhoff. All of us were in good spirits, as we had just spent the last four days in Cologne with our German cousins.
In this beautiful, peaceful setting, the purpose of our visit started to creep in. Standing outside our hotel I couldn’t help but think of what had happened here seventy years ago. What went through my mind was how terrifying it must have been for my grandfather Max Klaber, a decorated WWI soldier and patriot to the fatherland, yet fervently religious, along with two of my uncles, Albert and Willie, who were arrested by the Nazis on this terrible night for all Jews. My father Herbert, the youngest of six, was eighteen years of age, fortunately living in Holland at the time, while the beautiful synagogues in Gemen, and Borken were burned to the ground during the night of November 9 & 10, 1938, Kristallnacht (The Night of Broken Glass). And my poor grandmother, Regina. Can you imagine the anguish she must have felt with three of her men taken away? The Horror had just begun.
We came because the town of Borken had invited my elderly parents, along with about twenty Jewish survivors, for a third visit to the Munster region. My father, Herbert, and mother, Marcia, had visited once in 1988 for the 50th commemoration of Kristallnacht, and again in 1992 for the dedication of a memorial for the 100-plus Jews who had perished from the town. In both of those visits, over twenty people had come from around the world. Unfortunately, my father was too frail to make this trip, so he had requested we go in his stead (my older brother Mark was unable to attend). Dad had always remarked on how well they were treated on those trips by the people of Borken and insisted we go. I felt badly for my father because I knew he really wanted to go. We were his envoys, and I wanted to represent and honor him in the best light.
Alarm bells sounded in my head as our group assembled on our first night at the city hall with the Burgermeister, Herr Lehrmann, the mayor of Borken, for a meet and greet, along with a small entourage, and a few members of a Catholic organization, known as the Arbeitskreis (The Working Circle). This group was actually the driving force behind bringing back the Jews to Borken for a third time on their nickel.
As I looked around me at our small group of seven, I thought: is this all who came? There was only one member of our group who was actually born in Borken: Gershon Kaddar, formally Carl Gans, who left for Palestine in 1936 and escaped the terror in Europe. Incredibly dynamic and spry for a man 89 years of age, accompanied by three of his relatives from Israel, and the three of us from the U.S., we cast our alliance. It was disheartening to me to realize that the real witnesses to the Holocaust were rapidly disappearing. With all those invited, only one man could attest to his former connection to the town of Borken, the rest too old or weak to make the trip. I told myself I must learn as much as I can.
Friday, the next morning, the three of us, Rena, Larry and myself, were invited to the Montessori school in Borken to meet with some of the students. The director of the school, Herr Schuler Muller, had brought us into one of the classrooms of some very bright 14-15 year olds. The thing they were most excited about was Obama’s victory, which took place three days prior. Could you imagine our kids in the US even knowing the name of the prime minister of Germany, yet alone caring? It showed me that even today the US still carries a lot of weight throughout Germany. These were beautiful kids who showered us with kindness and a certain curiosity about our homecoming to Borken, Germany. It felt a little odd, but good, like a welcome back to your hometown. The healing process for me was in full force. The director of the school knew my father and the Klaber’s story, and he gave the children a brief overview in German. Questions were asked and answered by all of us, and we had an enthusiastic discussion. It was the highlight of my trip.
Later, the director brought us to the computer center and showed us a project that former and current students were working on. It was the stories of different Jewish families from Borken. A biography of The Klaber family of Borken had been written a few years back, and my father tells me he cannot believe the detail provided by the two students who wrote it. There are three middle schools in the area that are currently involved in this project.
One of my good friends, who happens to be very religious and lives in NY, asked me after I had returned from my trip if I had found resolution. I thought that was a very interesting question. I didn’t really respond to him, but I thought about the question and the context in how it was asked. I think it is not for me to get resolution, and whom shall I get it from? But it is enough for my father to reach into his soul to forgive at least the next generation, that is enough. For all the pain he endured, I know he will never get resolution. How can he? But I know he finds peace and hope knowing the next generation of Germans from Borken, and a few from the older guard, have embraced the former Jews of Borken and future Jewish generations.
People might question the Germans’ motivation. Is it out of guilt? Maybe. I’d like to believe in my jaded soul, as Anne Frank said, “because in spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart.”
After losing both parents, a sister, and a brother, who was experimented on in Aushwitz, during the war, my father, Herbert, survived by hiding on a farm in Holland. In 1971, my father took my mother, Marcia, my eldest brother Mark, and myself (14 years old) to Groenlo, Holland to visit my Aunt Erna who lived close to the German border. I don’t think he had intended to go to Germany on this trip, but while visiting my aunt he got up enough nerve to go back and visit his hometown of Borken. It was like walking on eggs, and not very comfortable or welcoming at the time. My father kept a low profile, and we felt out of place. I remember as a kid thinking, this really didn’t happen that long ago. It was a history lesson in real time.
Thirty seven years later, the next generation of Germans of Borken are asking their silent parents: What happened during those years? On their deathbeds, we might get some answers. As a German friend of mine said, there is still a Mafia of Silence from the older generation. Many questions will never be answered. Many crimes will go unpunished. But in the end there is hope.
Case in point: Here is a joint letter written to each one of us in our small group from the students of the three middle schools in Borken. It was presented to us at a dinner where over 300 people attended. An Israeli/German society club sponsored the event. German kids sang and played Israeli music, and German people, along with some of the teachers and kids in attendance from the schools, showed their love of Israel.
The letter went straight to my heart.
To the Jewish Guests of Borken on the occasion of the 70th anniversary of the Pogrom Night on November 9th in 2008
In the last years teachers and students of schools in Borken often had the chance to meet former Jewish citizens of our town and to learn–among other things–about those inhumane and detestable events of the 9th and 10th November 1938 from their own personal experience. These visits were, apart from their informational value, characterized by a warm and emotionally touching atmosphere.
We think that through these contacts both sides–you and we–have regained something that we all believed lost or suppressed in our sub consciousness. You may have found again your old home town and the emotional link to your childhood and your own past. We have come in contact with, and won the friendship of, wonderful people who to a great extent shaped our town and our history and with whom our life could have been so much richer. These contacts have now made it richer again.
Considering what happened to you and your families, we regard it as admirable and a great present to us that you were and are prepared to forgive this country and this town. We have often wondered if we would be able to act like you.
Your visits to Borken, your humanity, warmth and magnanimity have made a lasting impression on our students and us teachers. Your visits also had a great impact on our history lessons. Your presence here, your interest in and commitment to this town, its young people and our country’s future does more against racial resentment and neo-Nazism than any source of information. They are the basis for a respectful but more normal contact with each other.
For this we express our sincere thanks.
With the many positive impressive experiences in mind we would be very happy if you, the decendents of the former Jews of Borken, were interested in keeping up these contacts.
We hope that you and your families will in the future too, be able to find again this part of your history and to feel a little at home again here. We and our students would very much like to contribute to that. We also invite you to take part in our life whenever you like and we are convinced that such an exchange will bring us closer together and enrich our lives.
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