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I can’t forget what the Nazis did to my family, but I can be grateful to a repentant Germany
(JTA) — Picture a cute-looking, 6 1/2-year-old girl with curly braided hair. She is standing on a sidewalk, on a cold, dreary day in Leipzig, Germany, together with her parents and my wife and me. My granddaughter Vivi is staring intently at a 75-year-old worker, kneeling on the ground. He is digging a hole through the pavers to install several 4” x 4” brass plaques mounted on cement cubes — memorials to relatives who perished at the hands of the Nazis more than 80 years ago.
In February, we traveled 9,500 miles round-trip to dedicate 12 Stolpersteine plaques in memory of relatives I never knew, or even knew I had. (All 16 of my family members would have stood with us that day, but Germany’s airport worker strike canceled the others’ flights.) They were just some of my late father’s aunts, uncles and cousins who were murdered in the Holocaust, and we regarded the ceremony as a pseudo-levaya, a quasi-funeral that would be the final act of respect and farewell Hitler had denied my relatives.
I couldn’t have imagined, 60 years earlier when I first visited Germany, that I would ever return in a spirit approaching forgiveness, or that I’d feel a deep connection to a country that was once synonymous with brutality, pain, humiliation and suffering.
Stolpersteine, a German word meaning “stumbling block,” refers to a design brilliantly conceived by the non-Jewish German artist Gunter Demnig in the early 1990s. Installed in front of the homes where innocent Jewish victims last freely lived, the brass plaques simply and artistically memorialize, honor and personalize those brutally persecuted. On each plaque are engraved the victim’s name, dates of birth and death. As Demnig once said, “A person is only forgotten when his or her name is forgotten.” Hence, 100,000 of his plaques throughout Europe remind us that Jews are part of a shared history, and a common memory.
Whether consciously or not, the “stumbling pedestrian” instantly recalls the extraordinary evil unleashed by ordinary people, on once vibrant Jewish communities, and the terrorized Jewish neighbors who lived within them. This evil was driven by a blind loyalty to a gratuitous hatred of “the other,” meaning non-Aryans.
Who were these relatives I recently memorialized? Recently uncovered documents suggest my relatives were all decent, law-abiding citizens who contributed to Leipzig’s economy, enriched its cultural life and strengthened its social fabric. Sadly, being model citizens did not spare them from torturous fates.
One of those relatives, Elfriede Meyerstein, my paternal grandfather’s sister, was born Feb. 27, 1871 in Breslau. At 20, she came to Leipzig where her husband Menny ran a textile trading company with his family. They lived at the same address for many years. By 1931, after Menny’s death, she lived with her daughter Käthe Huth.
The Nazis, once in power, immediately expropriated Elfriede’s assets, comprising foreign stocks meticulously accumulated by Menny. The Nazi “Ordinance on the Registration of Jewish Assets” of April 26, 1938, forced her to surrender those securities to the state. In 1939, shortly after Kristallnacht on Nov. 9-10, 1938, the Nazis collected a “reimbursement tax” as “atonement,” from Elfriede and the rest of Germany’s Jewish community, for the damage Nazis did that night.
Just prior to her Sept. 19, 1942 deportation to Theresienstadt at age 71, Elfriede was forced to sign a “home purchase agreement,” the Nazis’ final act of expropriation. The document falsely and cynically promised her a “retirement home,” with free lifetime accommodation, food and medical care, but paid for by her, in advance. The Reich Security Main office confiscated 65,000 Reichsmarks ($300,000 in today’s currency). Her “retirement home” was in a ghetto with disastrous hygienic conditions, starvation, and no medical care. Elfriede died one month later.
After considerable soul-searching and three visits to Germany, spaced over 60 years, my attitudes and feelings today, vis a vis Germany and its citizens, are dramatically different from when I first visited in 1966.
Then, I came with unprocessed emotional baggage. In 1939, my father, Ralph Meyerstein, fled Dusseldorf and my mother, Cecily Geyer, fled Dresden, both for England. My paternal grandparents, Alfred and Meta Meyerstein, were deported from Dusseldorf on Nov. 8, 1941, to Minsk, where they were killed. My maternal grandmother, Salcia, was deported to Riga in January 1942; in November 1943 she was sent to Auschwitz and murdered.
My parents met in Ware, a small town north of London, where some German Jews took refuge. They moved to London where they married during the Blitz and we came to the United States in December 1947.
The German-issued ID card of Max Israel Meyerstein, the author’s great-uncle, who was murdered by the Nazis in 1942 at the age of 80. (Courtesy Michael Meyerstein)
As an only child, I shouldered much of my parents’ guilt over abandoning their parents, even though it was their parents who, thankfully, had urged them to flee Germany. When retelling their survival story, my eyes still well up with tears, revealing a lifetime of trauma I’ve absorbed on their behalf. That first visit felt almost adversarial in tone. It was I, representing my parents’ personal losses and those of the Jewish people, versus Germany and Germans. I reacted viscerally to hearing guttural Deutsch being spoken. I eyeballed Germans on the street and asked myself: How old are they? Did they commit heinous crimes against my family and my people?
By 2018, when I dedicated a Stolpersteine in my maternal grandmother’s memory, my judgmental attitudes and harsh feelings had softened. Maybe I realized that 75 years later, the ordinary citizen on the street could not be held responsible for the carnage of the Holocaust. Also, working with non-Jewish German volunteers in planning the ceremony showed me their humanity, sensitivity and outright remorse for Nazism’s impact on my family and their German state. Their kindness was an atonement for a past not of their making.
My visit in February shed further light on my evolving relationship with Germany and Germans. Today’s Germany is doing teshuva, or repentance, by strengthening democracy, creating an inclusionary society, responding resolutely to far-right extremism, educating its young about the Holocaust, offering sanctuary to Jews fleeing Russia and Ukraine and being a true friend to the State of Israel. It also is supporting Jewish communal institutions, paying reparations to Israel, to individual victims and their descendants.
My relationship became much more nuanced upon learning that Germany was once home to five generations of my family, as far back as 1760, in the small town of Grobzig where Matthias Nathan Meyerstein was born. On our visit to its mid-17th-century Jewish cemetery, I gazed incredulously at the graves of Meyersteins. I saw schutzbriefen, documents issued by the reigning duke, that assured my ancestors protection, commercial privileges and religious rights. In the old Leipzig Jewish cemetery, I visited 12 relatives’ graves from the 1800s and 1900s, which reflected much about their secure socio-economic status.
Before my retirement, I never knew that Grobzig or Leipzig or other towns were in my family’s history. This discovery led to one conclusion: Unquestionably, 1933 to 1945 was a tragic anomaly in human history, and especially Jewish history. However, I must also gratefully acknowledge the Germany that sustained my family for over 300 years, and Jewish communal life for 1,700 years.
Nazi Germany’s ill-treatment and intolerance of “the Other” still affects me today as I mourn my relatives’ death. On the other hand, I feel heartened by this sentiment written by a non-Jewish German who funded research about my family: “For me, as I am part of this country and its history, it will be a never-ending task to find ways to deal with this horrible past and most importantly, never to forget,” she wrote.
Navigating this complex relationship with Germany and Germans is intellectually and emotionally messy for Jews. My engagement with “the Other,” however, has been profoundly satisfying.
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The Science Behind Streak-Free Windows: What Professionals Do Differently
When it comes to window cleaning, nothing beats the satisfaction of streak-free, crystal-clear glass. But achieving this pristine finish isn’t as simple as grabbing a cloth and some spray. Professional window cleaners have mastered the science behind streak-free windows, using specific techniques and tools to deliver flawless results. Here’s what they do differently and why their methods are so effective.
1. Using the Right Tools for the Job
Professionals don’t rely on standard cleaning products or paper towels to get the job done. Instead, they use high-quality tools specifically designed for window cleaning. Key items in their arsenal include:
- Squeegees: The cornerstone of any professional’s toolkit, squeegees ensure even water removal, leaving no streaks behind. The rubber blades are replaced regularly to maintain their effectiveness.
- Microfiber Cloths: Unlike traditional rags, microfiber cloths are lint-free and highly absorbent, making them perfect for detailing and edge cleaning.
- Specialized Cleaning Solutions: Professionals often use eco-friendly, ammonia-free solutions that dissolve dirt and grease without leaving residues.
- Water-Fed Poles: For high-rise or hard-to-reach windows, water-fed poles equipped with purified water systems are used to clean without streaking.
2. The Importance of Purified Water
One of the secrets to streak-free windows lies in the water itself. Tap water contains minerals, salts, and impurities that can leave behind spots and streaks when it dries. Professionals use purified water systems that remove these contaminants, ensuring a spotless finish.
Purified water also has a natural ability to dissolve dirt and grime more effectively than regular water. When combined with the right tools, it creates the perfect formula for crystal-clear windows.
3. Perfecting the Technique
The way professionals clean windows is just as important as the tools they use. Here are some techniques they employ to achieve streak-free results:
- Pre-Cleaning: Before tackling the glass, professionals remove loose dirt and debris from the surface to prevent scratches.
- Systematic Movements: Using a squeegee, they clean in overlapping strokes, starting at the top and working their way down. This ensures no spots are missed and prevents water from dripping onto already cleaned areas.
- Edge Detailing: Professionals pay special attention to the edges and corners of the glass, where streaks are most likely to form. Microfiber cloths are often used for this step.
- Drying Techniques: Any remaining water is carefully wiped away to prevent streaking. This step is crucial, especially in areas with high humidity.
4. Timing Matters
Professional window cleaners know that timing can make or break the outcome. Cleaning windows on a sunny day might seem like a good idea, but direct sunlight causes cleaning solutions to dry too quickly, leaving streaks behind. Professionals prefer overcast days or cooler parts of the day to ensure optimal results.
5. Safety First
For high-rise buildings or windows in hard-to-reach places, safety is a top priority. Professionals use specialized equipment like harnesses, ladders, and scaffolding to ensure they can clean effectively without compromising safety. This expertise allows them to tackle challenging jobs while maintaining streak-free quality.
6. Experience and Training
What truly sets professionals apart is their experience. Years of practice have honed their skills, allowing them to identify and address potential issues, like hard water stains or stubborn grime, before they become a problem. Their training ensures they can adapt to different types of glass and environments, delivering consistent results every time.
A Trusted Name in Toronto
When it comes to achieving streak-free windows, Toronto Window Cleaners has perfected the art. With over 20 years of experience, their team of fully trained and certified professionals uses advanced techniques and tools to deliver exceptional results. Whether it’s a residential property or a high-rise building, they’ve built a reputation for excellence across the Greater Toronto Area.
In conclusion, the science behind streak-free windows is a blend of using the right tools, employing expert techniques, and understanding the conditions that impact cleaning results. By trusting professionals, you’re not just ensuring sparkling windows—you’re investing in a methodical process that guarantees perfection every time.
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Memoir of child of Holocaust survivors takes riveting twists
Book Review by Julie Kirsh (former Sun Media News Research Director)
Exclusive to The Jewish Post
“We used to Dream of Freedom, A Memoir of Family, the Holocaust, and the Stories We Don’t Tell”
By Sam Chaiton (Dundurn Press) 2024
Sam Chaiton’s memoir of growing up with Holocaust survivor parents in downtown Toronto in the 1950s is a compelling read.
Jeanne Beker, a well known Toronto fashion writer, mentions in her praise for “We used to Dream of Freedom” that her survivor parents talked incessantly about their war experiences.
My own parents, both survivors, would drop tidbits of their stories now and again. I learned to be watchful and vigilant for these rare moments of revelation. However, questioning my parents about the Holocaust, would cause them pain. I knew when to stand down.
In his memoir, Sam Chaiton tells the reader that his parents chose to remain completely silent about their wartime experiences. Poignantly their son was left with a silence that he interpreted as huge empty sound. Although the son could understand some Yiddish, his parents turned to Polish in order to keep the “kinder safe”. Outright denial of illness and death was part of his parents’ way of coping.
Born in the 1950s on Palmerston Boulevard in downtown Toronto, Chaiton paints a vivid picture of his youth as the middle son of five boys. He describes the mayhem of a household of barked orders and punishment by his father’s belt. His mother, as with many other survivors, was obsessed with eating and food. Chaiton learned early that rejecting his controlling mother’s food was one of his few weapons. “It’s hard not to do what a Holocaust survivor wants you to”, he says. Chaiton had to stare down two parents both with tattoos.
Dance proved to be a saving grace for Chaiton. On the dance floor, with a partner, the gates of happiness and permission to be oneself, opened. The Toronto Dance Theatre in Yorkville was a salvation and home for Chaiton. Also important to Chaiton was a family – not his troubled blood family but a chosen one – a commune.
In 1973, after a sojourn in New York, Chaiton decided that he was not a performance dancer. Back in Toronto as he pointedly danced with his mother at his brother’s wedding, she told him that he was her favourite child, imposing “the psychological damage that parental favouritism caused”.
Living in a commune with a chosen family afforded Chaiton the freedom to dig deep into his psyche, face his traumatic upbringing and tear down the rigid rules of society and the biological family. At a certain point, for reasons he explains in the book, Chaiton made the decision to vanish from the lives of his parents and brothers.
In 1980 the commune took up the cause of the injustice and illegal jailing of Rubin “Hurricane” Carter. Carter had been exonerated, released from prison and then reconvicted and sent back to prison.
In hindsight Chaiton wonders if his disengagement from his family caused them the same wounds and feelings of emptiness that Carter had to face when he was reincarcerated.
In 1985 while sitting in a New Jersey prison yard with friends and Carter, Chaiton had the riveting vision that he was in a concentration camp, “on a mission to liberate (his) parents – the dream of every Holocaust survivor’s child.”
In the summer of 1985, Chaiton received the news from Toronto that his parents were involved in a fatal car accident. Only after his mother’s death, was Chaiton able to acknowledge that in spite of her smothering, she gave him a sense of self worth and strength.
In 1988 Chaiton co-wrote the story of freeing Carter. One of his brothers saw him on a news broadcast, contacted him and the 20-year silence between Chaiton and his blood family was over.
Riding on the coattails of the successful release of Carter, Chaiton and some friends established an organization that continues to exist today. Innocence Canada has helped wrongfully convicted people like Guy Paul Morin, David Milgaard and Steven Truscott.
In chapter 16, entitled Wierzbnik, Chaiton finally learns about his father’s testimony published in a book, “Remembering Survival”, by a university professor. Reading about his father’s history helped Chaiton to understand the damage done to survivors, his parents’ trauma and why the home that they created for their sons after the war was so fraught.
Chaiton remarks on the interconnectedness of learning about the sufferings of his parents, his own personal struggles and the gift his father left him of being able to tell his own story.
Sam Chaiton’s profound memoir took courage and brutal honesty to write.
His book teaches that the legacy left by Holocaust survivors, along with a deep sadness, is the innate need of the children to persevere and find their own path of survival and growth.
Obituaries
CAROL SLATER (née GENSER)
With great courage on Wednesday, November 6, 2024, surrounded by her family.
Treasured daughter of the late Esther and the late Percy. Beloved wife of Ron for 69 years. Loving mother and mother-in-law of Charles and Dina Slater, Erin and Joe Battat, Adam and Kit, Claudia and the late David. Cherished grandmother of Zach, Robert and Hydi, Ben and Martha, Liam and Addison, Thom and Emeline, Max, Ilai, Emanuelle and Eli. Proud great-grandmother of Rafael, Lily, Maya, and Jojo. Special sister and sister-in-law of David and Joan Genser, Roberta and Mayer Lawee; and sister-in-law of Joel and Sheila Slater. Greatly missed by her nieces, nephews, family, friends and by all who knew her.
The family would like to thank Drs. Shamy, Lipes, Chang, the doctors, nurses and staff at the Jewish General Hospital Palliative Care Unit as well as DeyDey, Linette and everyone who took such wonderful care of our Mom.
Funeral service from Paperman & Sons, 3888 Jean Talon St. W., on Sunday, November 10 at 9:30 a.m. Livestream available. Burial in Israel.
Donations in her memory may be made to the “Carol and Ron Scholarship” c/o Mothers Matter Canada 1-604-676-8250
Publish Date: Nov 9, 2024
CAROL SLATER
(née GENSER)
With great courage on Wednesday, November 6, 2024, surrounded by her family.
Treasured daughter of the late Esther and the late Percy. Beloved wife of Ron for 69 years. Loving mother and mother-in-law of Charles and Dina Slater, Erin and Joe Battat, Adam and Kitt, Claudia and the late David. Cherished grandmother of Zach, Robert and Hydi, Ben and Martha, Liam and Addison. Proud great-grandmother of Rafael, Lily, Maya, and Jojo. Special sister and sister-in-law of David and Joan Genser, Roberta and Mayer Lawee; and sister-in-law of Joel and Sheila Slater. Greatly missed by her nieces, nephews, family, friends and by all who knew her.
The family would like to thank Drs. Shamy, Lipes, Chang, the doctors, nurses and staff at the Jewish General Hospital Palliative Care Unit as well as DeyDey, Linette and everyone who took such wonderful care of our Mom.
Funeral service from Paperman & Sons, 3888 Jean Talon St. W., on Sunday, November 10 at 9:30 a.m. Live stream available. Burial in Israel.
Donations in her memory may be made to the “Carol and Ron Scholarship” c/o Mothers Matter Canada 1-604-676-8250
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