My 1st Yom HaShoah Speech at local high school

Last April,  I launched the Speaker's Bureau  at BCC's Center for Peace, Justice, Reconciliation.  My main motivation was to give a voice to the 2nd & 3rd generation of genocide survivors as the original survivors age and dwindle.  Only descendants of survivors can tell the stories with the same passion as their elders, having lived it through their parents/ grandparents. Telling survivor stories captivates the students' attention. A lecture given by a professor will not share the same energy.

Although I have spoken to students at BCC a couple times,  this year was the first time we had an outside request from a local high school. I had the honor of presenting for Yom HaShoah  (4/24/2017) at Passaic County Tech for ~50 students.   During my 90-minute presentation, I showed my mom's video testimonial about her escape from Germany and also told stories from my dad, and uncle;   about their survival, from Paris to Ceyroux.

Delivering my Speech in French - a feat for sore ears

Luce Petitjean sent me the DVD of the ceremony. Luce, who works in the mayor's office in Ceyroux, was instrumental in the planning of the event in the Ceyroux town hall on 12/4.   In the midst of all the chaos on that day, with all the last-minute details as people were arriving, within minutes of the ceremony starting,.... she took the time to help me translate my speech. This was especially difficult since some of my English phrases were complicated and did not translate well into French. 

For example I planned to say "the story of Ceyroux was ingrained in my brain". I don't think the French use that expression. Some of what I was trying to express, was confusing to Luce, to understand what I meant.  My sentences were a disordered mess. There was no elegant 1-for-1 translation.  The last-minute nature of this exasperated both of us. Luce was in a hurried state, putting out the champagne, posting the photos on display,,... etc...  While I was panicked because my yet-to-be-translated speech was locked in the office.   The only calm one was the Scottish Simonnet son who was also helping us.

The French words and phrases I was comfortable with & could easily pronounce were sometimes traded for a more proper version.  I was prepared to say "my dad told me the story of Ceyroux" as "mon pere m'a dit....". Luce changed this familiar, easy to pronounce phrase to "mon pere m'a parler".  Were those extra syllables really necessary? LOL. I do not know the subtleties of the language.  What was the difference between "dad told me" vs. "dad talked to me". 

In the end, I did not have time to practice using these French phrases. So it was clumsy and my accent was painful to listen to.  I should have apologized to the audience.  Luckily, Luce & Mr. Benguigui were at my side to help when I got stuck midway.

The DVD allowed me to replay the ceremony.  I played a portion of my speech for my family. When my son heard it he agreed it was really bad,....  & he heard the good part.    Although I regret not being better prepared, I did say most of what I intended. I thanked the families: the Simonnet, Parcelier, & Daquet families. I thanked my niece Danielle for making the visit 5 years ago which  facilitated the submission process with Yad Vashem.  I was grateful to Yad Vashem for recognizing Ceyroux and the role they played.   I regret not mentioning the person who especially helped me with my speech. I hope Luce will forgive me.

From this 1-hour DVD, I can extract key speeches. So far I have created a version with just Monique's speech. Next, I will separate mine, Luce's, & Mayor Daquet's.  I hope to upload to my YouTube channel & put CC (Closed Captions) in English & French.  Is there an APP to translate audio from a DVD into text?   Google? SIRI? anyone?

Twitter Follower turns out to be long lost cousin!

another connection….This one through TWITTER:

When people follow me on Twitter, I often wonder why. Sept 17, 2014 Twitter alerted me to a new follower: Remy. After checking Remy's profile I saw we shared a surname & PARIS.  I had been searching for my dad's French cousins Maurice and Albert for 20+ years and my Twitter follower turns out to be their nephew!

May 2015 Remy connects me to his cousin Nathalie Simonne, or rather she emails me.   Nathalie is the niece of Albert & Maurice.  She shares some valuable family tree info, adding names of extended family I did not know existed.  We exchange details of our families.
Originally I had thought that the 2 brothers had perished in the Holocaust.  I had discovered that Maurice's 8 year old son Robert was deported from Paris and murdered. Here is a link to a picture of him I found on the Serge Klarsfeld's website. Caption: Robert  Binsztock with Lucienne & Fanny Lerner:  http://www.holocaust-history.org/klarsfeld/French%20Children/html&graphics/T0951.shtml   Now I know that the 2 girls in the photo with him were also cousins: Fanny & Lucienne.  The 3 of them were deported from France and murdered in the Holocaust.

La Conscience des Francais - book authored by Rene Duschler

Like a detective, I often search  back through my old Genealogical email correspondence for clues I may have missed.  I also repeat prior google searches to see if something new is posted about a specific person.

Last week I googled "Rene Duschler" as I have many times before.  But this time,  I had an exact match on his name,  a book he authored was listed for sale:  "La conscience des Français".  Although it was published in 1987, this was the first time I noticed it in my search results.  I immediately placed my order.

I believe the author, Rene Duschler, was my dad's best friend and neighbor growing up in Paris. In 1939 Rene was a year older than my dad and Rene was enlisted in the French army.  Rene was captured by the Germans and somehow escaped. When Rene returned home to his apartment in Paris, his dad was concerned that the Germans would come looking for him.  My dad's family hid Rene in their apartment for several weeks.  My dad described this unique scenario of his family as "Jews hiding a Gentile".  

In June 1942  my dad and his family were forced to wear the  yellow star of David that identified them as  "Juif" Jewish.   My dad described the panic in the Jewish community, the pandemonium.  Jews became hunted animals, desperate for an escape route.  

Rene Duschler's dad was a peddlar with many connections.  When the time came, Mr. Duschler provided the name and address of a "cheminot", a railroad worker in Vierzon.  The railroad station in Vierzon was one of the largest in France, strategically located on the boundary between zones.  At the time France was divided into a Northern Nazi-occupied zone and a Southern free zone.

This Cheminot became my family's courageous savior.  He smuggled members of my family, and other desperate Jews, onto railroad cars headed south, all while German soldiers patrolled the area.  My dad could not recall this cheminot's name, but often talked about him.  He was eventually captured by the Germans and killed.    

When I came across Rene Duschler's book on Amazon, I felt that this book could provide  answers and details from my dad's story. Who was this cheminot? What was his full name? Wouldn't it be something extraordinary if Rene mentioned my dad in his book?  I am trying not to hold impossible expectations as I anticipate the precious content that this book may hold.  



 

Collaborators, Bystanders, & Heros - my TEDx Talk at College -unknown HERO -Vierzon Cheminot

In preparing to give my talk on Friday 4/26/2013, I have reflected on my parents' struggles and the people who helped them.  Rene Duschler's dad connected my dad to a "cheminot", a railroad worker who lived and worked in Vierzon. Vierzon at the time was one of the largest, busiest railroads in France which was strategically located on the border between Northern Nazi-occupied zone and Southern Free-zone. This cheminot was a complete stranger, yet he risked and gave his life smuggling desperate Jews onto freight cars headed South.  Unfortunately, he was captured and executed by the Germans and I never learned his name.  I have been searching for decades now.  Under the cover of darkness, under constant heavy German patrols: he alone lead my dad, my mom, my grandparents, my 2 aunts, and countless other Jews to safety.  He did this many times for just my family including some aborted attempts. If anyone knows who he was please let me know.  He should be honored by Yad Vashem.

In My Dad's Own Words: Roundups in Paris 1941

In 1941 I had a deviated septum operation on my nose at a clinic in Belleville. I had to stay a couple days there. My father, David, came to visit me. When he arrived he was very shook up and out of breath. He had taken the Metro from Paris two stops and got off at the Belleville station. The clinic was at Boulevard de Belleville and he had to walk a few hundred yards from the station. When he exited the Metro car there were four exits, one on each of the four corners of the Boulevard. Somehow he went out a different exit than his usual. Upon arriving at street level he looked around him and could not believe his eyes. The other three exits were completed surrounded by Police with Germans. Busses were waiting to fill up with all the Jews they could find. My father, by pure luck, had taken the one exit that was not surrounded and avoided being captured.
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In My Dad's Own Words: Wearing the Star 1942

In December 1941 the US entered the war. For a short time we felt reassured, but it was only a false sense of security. In early 1942 the newspapers announced that all Jews under occupied territories must report to Police to pick up a star of David with the word "JEW" printed on it. The Star was a 3x3" piece of yellow fabric that we had to cut and sew ourselves with black thread onto our clothes over our left breast. Any Jew caught not wearing it would be arrested.

This caused pandemonium, like a bomb shell. Every Jew, now, was involved. I now realized fully that being a French Jew was of no help to me. My country had betrayed me and was completely working with the Germans. I cannot describe the way I felt at that time having to wear the Star of David in the street. I felt humiliated, degraded, branded like an animal. The hurt inside me was killing me and I knew right then and there I could not take it anymore. I would have to do something. The due date to attach the star was June 6, 1942.

...Finished was the sense of security that I had for being a French citizen. I learned and realized the hard way that I was a Jew, and nothing else. By wearing the Star of David we were sitting ducks. Wherever we went they could spot us a mile away. I decided I would leave the German-occupied zone and go to the Free Zone which was under the Vichy Government, but not German rule.