Transcribing my Dad's Story from pencil...

Happy New Year 2020! On this blog I have often posted excerpts from my dad's story "In His Own Words." 

Sometime in the late 1990's, my dad completed writing his memoir, more than 150 pages handwritten in pencil.   When he first handed me his manuscript, he watched as I inspected it.  One of the entries in his Table of Contents was "experience".  I turned to the page and began reading. I was not expecting that "experience" referred to his first sexual experience, his visit to a brothel! 

I knew I needed to preserve his story, electronically on my computer. So I began the process of transcribing and entering his words into Word Perfect.   I did some wordsmithing and editing to tweak his English.  In one chapter he describes the increasingly threatening conditions in Paris 1942 as "titanium".  It took me a while to realize he was referring to the state of chaos, or "pandemonium."

To this day I refer back to details in his story to help me track our family tree.  My dad diligently  detailed names of cousins, their occupations, locations in Poland, street addresses in Paris.  The street addresses were a key clue in connecting a name in a database as a cousin.

My dad wrote that cousins Albert and Maurice Binstock moved into his parents' apartment on Rue Fessart.  For many years I tried to track down these two cousins in documents online. During my 2011 visit to the USHMM research floor I copied all ITS records for Binstock of Bedzin or Paris.  Finally I discovered a Mordka Binstock with the same address listed for Rue Fessart & immediately I knew I had found my "Maurice."  It wasn't till 2014 that I connected with his living descendant, Remy, through Twitter.

I could write an entire miniseries just from the stories that were passed down. The survivor witnesses, each with their own unique story of survival: my mom, my aunts, my uncle, my cousins.

My next step is to get my dad's story published in a book, to share with the world.   My dad would want his name as the writer. I can put my name as editor. Not sure how to begin the process.

Sala's Gift

Just finished reading "Sala's Gift - My Mother's Holocaust Story" by Ann Kirshner.   The author really brought the characters to life, as well as the Jewish community of Bedzin-Sosnowicz.  I was especially interested since my dad and uncle had large families living in Bedzin & Sosnowiec, and I never learned who they were or what happened to them.   The book destails the history of the area, Eastern Upper Salesia - Zaglembie.  Auschwitz was near Sosnowiec & the final destination for most of Jewish population that perished.  Most of what I learned of my dad's family comes from his documentation from a visit to Bedzin as a small child and from Yad Vashem records.

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: Escape from Paris

My parents had hid Mr. Duschler's son after he had escaped from Germany as a Prisoner of War at the beginning of the war in early 1940. Mr. Duschler was a peddlar and knew his way around and knew many people in many places. He really came through for me, and also for my family later on. He had contact with a "chemino", a man who worked for the railroad. This "chemino" lived and worked in Vierzon.
Vierzon, at the time, was one of the largest railroad stations in France and was located strategically on the boundary line between zones. But Vierzon was in German occupied territory. Vierzon had only 3 or 4 passenger train lines, but dozens of railroad lines for freight and cattle cars. These freight cars came loaded with food or freight equipment from the South and were discharged ( in Vierzon) and headed North to the occupied Zone and returning empty to the free zone going South.
Mr. Duschler gave me the name of the "chemino" and his address along with the hours that he would return home from work so I could wait for him. I also was instructed how much money I was to give him for helping to cross me over the border. I had no idea how this was to work. I was very reluctant and scared to take the train directly from Paris to Vierzon. Police and Germans were always all around the railroad stations looking for those who were forbidden to ride the train. Many Jews were caught at the station or riding on the train after they were asked to see their identity card.