Somehow it almost seems wrong that this project should be coming to a close. On one hand, I have to admit it's a bit of a relief. I spent a good chunk of my semester working out how to contact Sarah, then being nervous about what to say and do, and then freaking out about what to include in the narritive and wondering how accurate our notes were since both Carly and I got so wrapped up just listening to Sarah's story. On the other hand, for a story so singular and important (as is the story of every survivor and even every non-survivor) I feel like it has very suddenly all come to a close. I wish it would have been possible to set up more interviews, but varying schedules and my great lack of a car made this near impossible.
Despite all the troubles however, I am immensely happy that I was able to take part in this project. How often does one get the chance to meet somebody as amazing as Sarah and talk about such a singular experience as the Holocaust? So far in my life I can count the number of experiences like this on one finger. It is definetly something I will never forget (or if for some reason I do, I have this handy blog to remind me off all the details) and I feel blessed to have been given this oppurtunity.
As Carly and I found out in our interview, there is a lot more to Sarah than her experience as a survivor. She too was once a young girl who liked to go out dancing and shopping (and from the looks of her house, still does). She's had children, traveled the world, been in love and been married. She's a fascinating exmaple of how despite history, life goes on. Behind the stories that we all want to hear or need to hear, survivor's lives are not always so very different from our own. I sincerely hope that I can meet with Sarah again some day. I would love to sit down with her without the brimming weight of a project and the need to take notes. Perhaps she could teach me how to play bridge.
Monday, April 12, 2010
"Typhus" by Sarah Lumer
Introduction:
Although Carly and I were the first students to ever interview Sarah, we were not the first people to hear her story. Over the past few years Sarah has been takes classes and has begun to write her memoirs. She has written multiple short stories about specific events in her life and Carly and I were lucky enough to be able to look at some of these. The following is one of many autobiographical stories written by Sarah. In it she recounts how she contracted typhus during the War and what its effects were like.
"Typhus"
That winter between 1944 and 1945 seemed particularly bitter. Celie, Rosie and I had become quite thin, and we were happy to work in the kitchen. We nibbled at potatoes and cabbage when no one was looking and sometimes were given a little extra bread by one of our supervisors. We considered ourselves lucky. The most difficult work I had was scraping carrots, because the sugary carrot spray stuck to the back of my hands and froze. I had to clean my hands regularly with lukewarm water, but sometimes I just forgot. I envied the women who were clever and wore gloves with the finger coverings cut away. They didn’t have my problem.
Once after work, I noticed my hands had become puffy. A few days later, the skin cracked and a strange liquid oozed out of the cracks. The liquid was clear, but thick and sticky. The German soldier who guarded us – the same one who had asked me if both my parents were Jewish – ordered me to go to our camp doctor, who was one of us. When I came to his office, the doctor, who was from Budapest and had a graying mustache, examined my hands. He said I had frostbite. He instructed me to simply keep my hands warm and dry. He was sorry, but he had no medication for me, he said. I should come back in three days.
Fortunately, I had traded my bread rations – one loaf of bread – for a dead man’s blanket. Back in the barracks, I rolled that blanket into a kind of muff to keep my hands warm. A man who I often offered an extra helping of soup, gave me a small jar. He said it was a remedy for frostbite. I spread the cream over my hands and I think it helped a little.
Eventually, the skin on the back of my hands shriveled and peeled off. A new, darker skin had formed underneath. I kept applying the cream until it ran out. My hands stayed pink, like they were sunburned, for the longest time.
Soon after, I went back to work in the kitchen, I started to feel sick. I had a fever and got so dizzy, I had to hold on to the walls to get from one place to another. I went to see the Hungarian doctor again. He put a thermometer in my armpit and checked my temperature.
“Forty degrees,” he said.
He felt my neck with his soft fingers, then asked me pull up my blouse. He wanted to examine my belly.
“Look,” he said.
Small red spots covered my mid-section, like when I had measles as a little girl.
“I’m afraid you have Flecktyphus, Suri.” he told me, using my Hungarian nickname.
Typhus. I couln’t believe it. So many people had gotten it. But why should I be surprised, especially after working with the sick women for so many weeks?
“What should I do?” I asked the doctor.
“Nothing,” he answered. Just keep eating and especially drinking, if you can.” And he told me again that he had no medicine. For Jews, there was never any medicine.
When I got back to our barracks, Celie and Rosie convinced me not to stay in bed. They told me I’d be shot if I didn’t go to work. Germans had no use for sick Jews. So I went back to the kitchen, but wasn’t able to work much, or swallow any food. I could barely drink, either. I became weaker and weaker and one day, I fainted in the yard. I was taken to the shack with the sick women, and they put me on a top bunk, on the third level.
I didn’t want to die, I couldn’t die. I kept thinking that Mother had borrowed money for the ticket to send me to Budapest. How could I die? She expected me to survive and I couldn’t disappoint her. She’d kill me.
Friends came to visit. Besides Celie and Rosie, there were the two electricians and the two Romanian carpenter brothers who had built the bunks. They brought me bits of food, like butter, and told me to keep it on my tongue, letting it melt and run down the back of my throat. Once I got an apple. I chewed each bite for what seemed like hours, unable to swallow, but still tasted the juice sweet in my mouth.
I lay on my back, not really feeling hunger, just a terrible thirst. My fever rose and as I watched the ceiling, I saw large black birds flying back and forth, strange birds I’d never seen before. They were similar to the ones that dove out of the sky and caught the baby ducks and geese in our front yard in Sekernice. With screaming chicks in their claws, the vultures flew away, feathers falling to the ground. The shadows on the ceiling frightened me and I closed my eyes until they were gone. I thought they were the angels of death and would carry me away in their claws, too. I felt like I was going crazy.
Eventually, my fever broke and I started to feel better. But I was still weak. Several days later, Celie and Rosie came to say good-bye. They had been transferred to a German officers’ spa about a kilometer from our compound. They said they were being assigned to clean the rooms and baths at the spa. I stayed behind, hoping I could soon join them. I felt like I was left all alone.
After what seemed like weeks, I started to walk around on my own, still dizzy, but much better than before. One day, the watchmaker from the men’s barracks came over with an official slip of paper in his hand. I was to be released. He told me to pack my few things and brought me to the spa where Celie and Rosie were working. We were so happy to see each other again. The two of then had their own room with two beds and they organized another bed for me. I was thin as a thread, but now I was so hungry, and I ate all the food Celie and Rosie brought me from the Wehrmacht kitchen next door. I was never as hungry in all my life, and I never ate as much.
Although Carly and I were the first students to ever interview Sarah, we were not the first people to hear her story. Over the past few years Sarah has been takes classes and has begun to write her memoirs. She has written multiple short stories about specific events in her life and Carly and I were lucky enough to be able to look at some of these. The following is one of many autobiographical stories written by Sarah. In it she recounts how she contracted typhus during the War and what its effects were like.
"Typhus"
That winter between 1944 and 1945 seemed particularly bitter. Celie, Rosie and I had become quite thin, and we were happy to work in the kitchen. We nibbled at potatoes and cabbage when no one was looking and sometimes were given a little extra bread by one of our supervisors. We considered ourselves lucky. The most difficult work I had was scraping carrots, because the sugary carrot spray stuck to the back of my hands and froze. I had to clean my hands regularly with lukewarm water, but sometimes I just forgot. I envied the women who were clever and wore gloves with the finger coverings cut away. They didn’t have my problem.
Once after work, I noticed my hands had become puffy. A few days later, the skin cracked and a strange liquid oozed out of the cracks. The liquid was clear, but thick and sticky. The German soldier who guarded us – the same one who had asked me if both my parents were Jewish – ordered me to go to our camp doctor, who was one of us. When I came to his office, the doctor, who was from Budapest and had a graying mustache, examined my hands. He said I had frostbite. He instructed me to simply keep my hands warm and dry. He was sorry, but he had no medication for me, he said. I should come back in three days.
Fortunately, I had traded my bread rations – one loaf of bread – for a dead man’s blanket. Back in the barracks, I rolled that blanket into a kind of muff to keep my hands warm. A man who I often offered an extra helping of soup, gave me a small jar. He said it was a remedy for frostbite. I spread the cream over my hands and I think it helped a little.
Eventually, the skin on the back of my hands shriveled and peeled off. A new, darker skin had formed underneath. I kept applying the cream until it ran out. My hands stayed pink, like they were sunburned, for the longest time.
Soon after, I went back to work in the kitchen, I started to feel sick. I had a fever and got so dizzy, I had to hold on to the walls to get from one place to another. I went to see the Hungarian doctor again. He put a thermometer in my armpit and checked my temperature.
“Forty degrees,” he said.
He felt my neck with his soft fingers, then asked me pull up my blouse. He wanted to examine my belly.
“Look,” he said.
Small red spots covered my mid-section, like when I had measles as a little girl.
“I’m afraid you have Flecktyphus, Suri.” he told me, using my Hungarian nickname.
Typhus. I couln’t believe it. So many people had gotten it. But why should I be surprised, especially after working with the sick women for so many weeks?
“What should I do?” I asked the doctor.
“Nothing,” he answered. Just keep eating and especially drinking, if you can.” And he told me again that he had no medicine. For Jews, there was never any medicine.
When I got back to our barracks, Celie and Rosie convinced me not to stay in bed. They told me I’d be shot if I didn’t go to work. Germans had no use for sick Jews. So I went back to the kitchen, but wasn’t able to work much, or swallow any food. I could barely drink, either. I became weaker and weaker and one day, I fainted in the yard. I was taken to the shack with the sick women, and they put me on a top bunk, on the third level.
I didn’t want to die, I couldn’t die. I kept thinking that Mother had borrowed money for the ticket to send me to Budapest. How could I die? She expected me to survive and I couldn’t disappoint her. She’d kill me.
Friends came to visit. Besides Celie and Rosie, there were the two electricians and the two Romanian carpenter brothers who had built the bunks. They brought me bits of food, like butter, and told me to keep it on my tongue, letting it melt and run down the back of my throat. Once I got an apple. I chewed each bite for what seemed like hours, unable to swallow, but still tasted the juice sweet in my mouth.
I lay on my back, not really feeling hunger, just a terrible thirst. My fever rose and as I watched the ceiling, I saw large black birds flying back and forth, strange birds I’d never seen before. They were similar to the ones that dove out of the sky and caught the baby ducks and geese in our front yard in Sekernice. With screaming chicks in their claws, the vultures flew away, feathers falling to the ground. The shadows on the ceiling frightened me and I closed my eyes until they were gone. I thought they were the angels of death and would carry me away in their claws, too. I felt like I was going crazy.
Eventually, my fever broke and I started to feel better. But I was still weak. Several days later, Celie and Rosie came to say good-bye. They had been transferred to a German officers’ spa about a kilometer from our compound. They said they were being assigned to clean the rooms and baths at the spa. I stayed behind, hoping I could soon join them. I felt like I was left all alone.
After what seemed like weeks, I started to walk around on my own, still dizzy, but much better than before. One day, the watchmaker from the men’s barracks came over with an official slip of paper in his hand. I was to be released. He told me to pack my few things and brought me to the spa where Celie and Rosie were working. We were so happy to see each other again. The two of then had their own room with two beds and they organized another bed for me. I was thin as a thread, but now I was so hungry, and I ate all the food Celie and Rosie brought me from the Wehrmacht kitchen next door. I was never as hungry in all my life, and I never ate as much.
Sarah's Story - A Narritive Based off Of an Interview
Sarah Lumer was born in Czechoslovakia on a farm where she lived for the first 15 years of her life. She had two older brothers and one younger sister. Her family was, of course, Jewish, but Sarah never counted herself as overtly religious – to her it seemed simply like a part of daily life. On the farm where they lived, Sarah’s family grew mostly potatoes and some grass for the cow and her parents rented out pieces of land to sharecroppers. As a child living on a farm, Sarah had to work at a very young age and did not often have time to herself. She only went to school until the equivalent of the 8th grade. This, however, was not for lack of intelligence – Sarah was a good student and on her report cards (which she carried and kept with her during her times in labor and concentration camps) she received the equivalent of all A’s and B’s. Also, by the time she was a teenager she could speak “Jewish,” Czech, Hungarian, Ukrainian and German. Some of these languages she learned in school, others through necessity. For example, she had to learn Hungarian out of necessity due to the fact that the area of Czechoslovakia where she lived (Sekerniece) was taken over by the country of Hungary. Though Sarah did learn some Hungarian in school, she retained and perfected it through her three months of experience as a nanny for a Hungarian family in her early teens.
The very first recollection that Sarah has of the war, was one she was walking home one day and she came across a boy sitting in a tree. This was before Jews had to wear stars on their clothes, but somehow the boy recognized her as Jewish. He began to shout “Hitler will come on you!” At the time Sarah was only about 10 years old and did not have a clue as to who Hitler was or what the little boy could possibly be talking about. When she returned home and reported the experience to her family her father simply said “The last judgment will come on them.”
According to Sarah, the persecution of Jews in Czechoslovakia came about very slowly and gradually. By the time that Sarah was a teenager she had to wear the Jewish star on her clothes and had restrictions placed on where she could go. This was not very limiting while living on a farm, but when Sarah moved to Budapest to work and live with her brothers at 15, persecution became more apparent. Before Jews were forced to live in “Jewish houses” Sarah could (when she was not working) got out, but had to be indoors by a certain time and she could not go certain places. Once Sarah was spending time with her Christian friend Marico, another girl who had been sent by her parents to work in the city and Marico wanted to go to the movies. Sarah was obviously not allowed and she told Marico this. This did not bother Marico one bit; she pulled Sarah into an alleyway and undid the threads that kept Sarah’s star sewn to her jacket and pulled the star clean off. “Now you are with me,” she said and with that, she pulled Sarah into the movie theatre with her. Unfortunately, not long after this incident, Budapest was bombed by Ally forces and Marico’s parents sent for her. Marico went home to Hungary and Sarah never saw her again.
While living in Budapest Sarah had to work. For a while, she lived with her two older brothers; the younger of the two was an apprentice to a tailor and the other was the manager of a lumber yard. Sarah, on the other hand, worked in a factory that made men’s shirts. She spent her first week in Budapest learning what to do, but quickly caught on. Her boss was very kind and often brought Sarah a little food (which was getting scarcer as the war went on) and even offered Sarah a place to live, should she need it. However, living with her two brothers worked out just fine for Sarah. She was still able to maintain a good deal of independence because her brothers were busy working and they were more easy-going than her mother. This did not mean though that Sarah completely forgot about home. Every time she did something, like break rules or kiss a boy, her mother would always be on her mind and she would think things like “What would my mother say?”
At one point Sarah’s younger sister (who was about 12 at the time) was supposed to come to live with Sarah and her brothers in Budapest. However, Sarah’s parents wanted her sister to stay until Passover; they wanted a child to be the one to read the Four Questions. This circumstance did not turn out so well though. Sarah’s sister never came to Budapest and Sarah found out after the war and her sister and her parents had died.
Eventually, Sarah’s brothers were taken to a forced labor camp from which they kept a certain amount of correspondence. At one point, one of her brothers asked if Sarah would send cigarettes and his good suit. She obliged (although she was not able to send quite as many cigarettes as her brother would have liked – they were scarce in those times), but inquired as to what her brother could possibly need a suit for in a labor camp. Apparently suits could still be bartered for a lot of money (in this case, 120 pendle) and with that money the brothers planned to buy 120 nochi (dumplings with prunes in the middle) from a lady who sold them to the Jews who worked in the labor camp.
Soon after her brothers were taken away to the forced labor camp, Sarah had to move into a “Jewish house.” This was not the same as being moved into a ghetto. Jewish houses were large 4-story, apartment-like buildings that had Jewish stars hanging on the front. They were not in terrible areas of town, but not in nice places either and they were not as crowded as ghettos. When a Jew could leave these houses was very restricted; the occupants were only allowed out between the hours of 11am and 5pm. Sarah was never moved to a ghetto because the city of Budapest could not establish one fast enough and after spending a short time in the Jewish house, Sarah was taken to a forced labor camp.
Before being taken to the camp Sarah had to report to a large soccer rink, along with many other Jews between the ages of 15 and 60. They were then ferried across the river to Panchi, from which the camp occupants could still see Budapest. While at Panchi Sarah was forced to dig ditches to stop Ally tanks. These ditches were so deep that the walls had to be as tall as an average room is high (about 12-25 feet high). For a time Sarah also worked the kitchens.
Upon first arriving at Panchi the German soldiers spread out a blanket before the group and said “Put everything of value on this blanket. You will be searched. If we find something that has been hidden, every tenth person will be shot.” Young women went through the group begging everyone “Please put your valuables down! I have children waiting for me in Budapest – I can’t die!” Immediately people began throwing things on the blanket, including Sarah, who was forced to give up a big wad of money that her brothers had left behind and had put her in charge of keeping safe while they were at their own labor camp. Older men threw belts and shoes onto the blanket into which they had sewn hundred dollar bills in attempt to keep their money safe. The German soldiers made it very clear that they would know to check in such hiding places and the men had no desire to risk being shot or having to watch 10% of their companions be shot.
Even though her valuables were taken, Sarah got along better than many other Jews in the forced labor camp. She was very resourceful and before leaving Budapest had made sure to pack many things into a backpack that later became very useful. For example, one thing she brought was sewing thread, which was getting to be so rare and hard to get that at one point Sarah was able to trade it for a whole chicken and which she shared with some of her friends.
At one point during her time in forced labor Sarah contracted typhus. Not wanting to give the German soldiers any reason to shoot her she tried to keep working, but became so weak that she was eventually bed-ridden for multiple days. During this time she had a high fever, extreme thirst, and hallucinations of large black birds and angels of death. Although she survived, she was left for years with symptoms. More specifically she would have laughing spasms, where for no reason at all she would start laughing uncontrollably. These symptoms persisted all through her time during the war and only ended years later.
Also during her stay at Panchi, Sarah befriended a young man whom she later discovered to be a baron’s son. He once offered to take Sarah home with him after her stay in Panchi; he said that his father could get her the proper papers that would allow her to work at his father’s house as a maid or housekeeper. As a young girl on her own, Sarah was wary and she said that she would only accept his generous offer if he could take Sarah’s friends too (with her in Panchi, there were 4 or 5). The baron’s son could not, but he still tried to persuade her; he even warned her that the German soldiers would eventually move her from the labor camp to somewhere worse. Sarah did not believe him though. Even though she had heard stories about concentration camps, she believed them to be nothing more than rumors and she insisted that the soldiers would eventually take the Jews back to the Jewish houses in Budapest. But as we objective observers of history know – this was not to be. After her time in Panchi was over, Sarah began her first death march.
On the contrary of Sarah’s belief that shortly her and her friends would be sent back to Budapest, she began to her first death march to Austria. After the German incorporation in Austria, Mauthausen was the name of the main Nazi camp. Sarah’s first death march was to Mauthausen, she was sixteen. The death marches were one of the most challenging times of Sarah’s life. The Germans would allow them to stop at some places from time to time on during the day, yet these marches were tortuous and often lasted for days without food or anything. She always considered herself a resourceful girl. On the march, Sarah would gather sorrel from the side of the road to help replenish her. Sorrel tastes sour and looks like spinach leaves. Even though this helped rejuvenate her, after awhile it would make her mouth numb. Thanks to her life growing up on farm, she picked up small but significant tips such as this and fortunately it helped her survive throughout the Holocaust. The first day her feet began to swell, but by the second day she felt terribly exhausted and frail. Sarah then fell to the ground and crawled on her hands and knees on the railroad with gravel that made her bleed everywhere. Sarah felt she wouldn’t survive, though she forced herself to keep up with the other Jews, including her friends. There were only one hundred meters left and she had no doubt that if she didn’t keep up the other Jews and the Germans; the Nazi’s would shoot her. Ironically, as she remembered her mother (an influence imbedded deep inside her) as she crawled on all fours and thought to herself: “I can’t disappoint my mother; if I don’t survive she will kill me!”
While crawling on the railroad ground Sarah lost her friends in the crowd. She made it through the march, and fortunately her friends found her. Sarah was helpless and bleeding terribly. With the little resources the Jews had to care for themselves, her friends bandaged her by tearing cloth from her dress. Sarah still had her brother’s pants and shoes that were going to be traded in for food. She never wore pants before in her life. They were a nice pair of wool pants, her friends put them on her to help protect and heal her wounds. Her friends also put his shoes on her; they were like glove, kit leather. Sarah did not to give up either of them seeing that they were for food, but with her condition they were necessary. She was in the concentration camp for a little less than a year and her brother’s shoes and pants lasted her the entire time.
Throughout her time in the concentration camp, the fear of dying never diminished. There were times towards the end when Sarah believed she was going to die for sure. There were a couple of close calls when the Germans received orders to kill all of the Jews in her camp. One time, the Germans received orders from Berlin to take the Jews to Lintz, where they had gas chambers. They waited a few days, though fortunately this was towards the end of the war and that particular camp had recently been taken over by the Americans. Another time, the Germans were ordered to pour gasoline over the barracks (where Sarah and the Jews were staying) lock them inside and set them all on fire. That plan also fell through because by this time the Americans were too close and the Germans didn’t have enough time to follow through on these orders. Instead the Germans were ordered to wait for the Americans as they put up a white flag over their building. Although when the Americans arrived, the Germans were already gone. When put on trial after the war, the man in charge of the camp was ultimately set free. Even though he was ordered to kill the Jews in his camp in various horrific ways, it didn’t happen, so he was set free!
When Sarah was liberated, the Jews were so disoriented and weak some of them could hardly move because of the forced labor and lack of food for months; some had even endured years of this maltreatment. Sarah was too weak to go to the warehouses that the Americans provided with food. This didn’t limit her witness to the madness of the survivors though. People were wild during this time and starving. Some were so weak they were trampled to death by people trying to get to the food stores. Sarah saw many people die while trying to replenish themselves. One memory that to this day remains vivid in her mind was she remembers seeing many Jewish men and women dead on the ground with a can of food in one hand and a spoon in the other. These people resembled skeletons from being compounded for so long without food. Unfortunately they died trying to eat immediately after their liberation; their bodies could not take the food.
As many died trying to bring themselves back to life on their own, the smart ones checked themselves into American hospitals; Sarah was one of these. In the beginning of rejuvenation, one could only digest water used to boil rice and later, real rice. It made Sarah sick trying to replenish herself. She didn’t want to stay in the hospital though, so Sarah went to a German compound in the military after the liberation. She stayed there for four weeks to slowly regain her strength with rice water and eventually real rice like the others.
Sarah was officially liberated on May 4th 1945. Like other Jewish survivors from the concentration camps, Sarah not only developed Typhus during the war, but even after recovering, the symptoms remained with her for more than a year. After her liberation Sarah went to Budapest, where survivors went to stay with different hosting families who assisted in their difficult road to recovery. The family that hosted Sarah had two children who played the violin. After staying with them for about two weeks, Sarah experienced a heart wrenching revelation. This moment embedded tears in her memory and was extremely important to Sarah. She politely excused herself to the restroom and cried harder than ever before or since in her entire life. She realized she was an orphan. Her parents and her sister were dead. After seeing this family and the wholesome dynamic they had, she realized she would never have this –it was then that her laughing spasms (which had developed after having Typhus) stopped completely.
The Americans registered her after the compound to Czechoslovakia. At this time the few friends she had who stayed close to her throughout the camp were finally separated because they were registered in Romania. As Sarah went with her group trying to get back to Czechoslovakia, she often times had to walk from one station to the other because the railroads were bombed out. It was still dangerous in surrounding countries. For example, Jews would be killed if they went back home to Poland. Even though the trauma and unspeakable experiences Sarah went through made her a lonely young girl without parents or a sister, ultimately she still had her brothers. Her and her brothers stayed in contact by writing to one another from the labor camps. They were in Budapest. When she finally arrived home to see her brothers, they were out of town in Romania. The landlady who greeted Sarah was told by her brothers to bath her in milk and honey when she arrived. Sarah lost her hair when she came home and wore a scarf. Fortunately her brothers help revive her spirit back to life, they danced with her and helped her get use to living again.
Sarah eventually moved to a displacement camp after her liberation. These camps were established by Americans and the English; they were developed for survivors in her area after the war. It was at this displacement camp Sarah met her husband Art, who was originally from Poland. He had gone East at the start of the war and had ended up in a labor camp in Siberia for remainder of the war. He lived in a fourplex next door to her. At the time Art was one of two boys that were courting Sarah. He would come over from time to time and play cards with her brothers. Sarah stayed at this camp until 1946. She and Art knew each other for one year before they married in 1947; she was nineteen. Art was a twenty-seven year old, established young man, who took care of Sarah. Their first son was born in 1948, just one year into their marriage. Despite her experiences in the Holocaust, when Sarah was young she felt she was just like everyone else, she just went through different things and experiences. She too wanted a family and wanted to own nice things.
Sarah and Art lived in Berlin from 1949 to 1956. Sarah learned everything there before coming to the United States in 1956. They also had their second son in Berlin. Art made a very good living there and was able to bring 25,000 in U.S money to the states. He first worked in the toy business in a polish area in Detroit, Michigan. In 1958 Sarah and Art moved to Los Angeles. She came in contact with other immigrants in North Hollywood, which is where the biggest education in assimilation took place. She learned how to color her hair and began to understand Los Angeles’s cultural normalities. Art began to work in the business of establishing parking lots and structures and became one of the biggest property buyers in the beginning of the 70s. Today Sarah is a surprisingly vibrant eighty-one year old woman keeping up a beautiful four bedroom house with a little apartment outside in an upscale area Los Angeles. She and Art bought this house in 1972 and she has lived there for thirty-eight years.
The very first recollection that Sarah has of the war, was one she was walking home one day and she came across a boy sitting in a tree. This was before Jews had to wear stars on their clothes, but somehow the boy recognized her as Jewish. He began to shout “Hitler will come on you!” At the time Sarah was only about 10 years old and did not have a clue as to who Hitler was or what the little boy could possibly be talking about. When she returned home and reported the experience to her family her father simply said “The last judgment will come on them.”
According to Sarah, the persecution of Jews in Czechoslovakia came about very slowly and gradually. By the time that Sarah was a teenager she had to wear the Jewish star on her clothes and had restrictions placed on where she could go. This was not very limiting while living on a farm, but when Sarah moved to Budapest to work and live with her brothers at 15, persecution became more apparent. Before Jews were forced to live in “Jewish houses” Sarah could (when she was not working) got out, but had to be indoors by a certain time and she could not go certain places. Once Sarah was spending time with her Christian friend Marico, another girl who had been sent by her parents to work in the city and Marico wanted to go to the movies. Sarah was obviously not allowed and she told Marico this. This did not bother Marico one bit; she pulled Sarah into an alleyway and undid the threads that kept Sarah’s star sewn to her jacket and pulled the star clean off. “Now you are with me,” she said and with that, she pulled Sarah into the movie theatre with her. Unfortunately, not long after this incident, Budapest was bombed by Ally forces and Marico’s parents sent for her. Marico went home to Hungary and Sarah never saw her again.
While living in Budapest Sarah had to work. For a while, she lived with her two older brothers; the younger of the two was an apprentice to a tailor and the other was the manager of a lumber yard. Sarah, on the other hand, worked in a factory that made men’s shirts. She spent her first week in Budapest learning what to do, but quickly caught on. Her boss was very kind and often brought Sarah a little food (which was getting scarcer as the war went on) and even offered Sarah a place to live, should she need it. However, living with her two brothers worked out just fine for Sarah. She was still able to maintain a good deal of independence because her brothers were busy working and they were more easy-going than her mother. This did not mean though that Sarah completely forgot about home. Every time she did something, like break rules or kiss a boy, her mother would always be on her mind and she would think things like “What would my mother say?”
At one point Sarah’s younger sister (who was about 12 at the time) was supposed to come to live with Sarah and her brothers in Budapest. However, Sarah’s parents wanted her sister to stay until Passover; they wanted a child to be the one to read the Four Questions. This circumstance did not turn out so well though. Sarah’s sister never came to Budapest and Sarah found out after the war and her sister and her parents had died.
Eventually, Sarah’s brothers were taken to a forced labor camp from which they kept a certain amount of correspondence. At one point, one of her brothers asked if Sarah would send cigarettes and his good suit. She obliged (although she was not able to send quite as many cigarettes as her brother would have liked – they were scarce in those times), but inquired as to what her brother could possibly need a suit for in a labor camp. Apparently suits could still be bartered for a lot of money (in this case, 120 pendle) and with that money the brothers planned to buy 120 nochi (dumplings with prunes in the middle) from a lady who sold them to the Jews who worked in the labor camp.
Soon after her brothers were taken away to the forced labor camp, Sarah had to move into a “Jewish house.” This was not the same as being moved into a ghetto. Jewish houses were large 4-story, apartment-like buildings that had Jewish stars hanging on the front. They were not in terrible areas of town, but not in nice places either and they were not as crowded as ghettos. When a Jew could leave these houses was very restricted; the occupants were only allowed out between the hours of 11am and 5pm. Sarah was never moved to a ghetto because the city of Budapest could not establish one fast enough and after spending a short time in the Jewish house, Sarah was taken to a forced labor camp.
Before being taken to the camp Sarah had to report to a large soccer rink, along with many other Jews between the ages of 15 and 60. They were then ferried across the river to Panchi, from which the camp occupants could still see Budapest. While at Panchi Sarah was forced to dig ditches to stop Ally tanks. These ditches were so deep that the walls had to be as tall as an average room is high (about 12-25 feet high). For a time Sarah also worked the kitchens.
Upon first arriving at Panchi the German soldiers spread out a blanket before the group and said “Put everything of value on this blanket. You will be searched. If we find something that has been hidden, every tenth person will be shot.” Young women went through the group begging everyone “Please put your valuables down! I have children waiting for me in Budapest – I can’t die!” Immediately people began throwing things on the blanket, including Sarah, who was forced to give up a big wad of money that her brothers had left behind and had put her in charge of keeping safe while they were at their own labor camp. Older men threw belts and shoes onto the blanket into which they had sewn hundred dollar bills in attempt to keep their money safe. The German soldiers made it very clear that they would know to check in such hiding places and the men had no desire to risk being shot or having to watch 10% of their companions be shot.
Even though her valuables were taken, Sarah got along better than many other Jews in the forced labor camp. She was very resourceful and before leaving Budapest had made sure to pack many things into a backpack that later became very useful. For example, one thing she brought was sewing thread, which was getting to be so rare and hard to get that at one point Sarah was able to trade it for a whole chicken and which she shared with some of her friends.
At one point during her time in forced labor Sarah contracted typhus. Not wanting to give the German soldiers any reason to shoot her she tried to keep working, but became so weak that she was eventually bed-ridden for multiple days. During this time she had a high fever, extreme thirst, and hallucinations of large black birds and angels of death. Although she survived, she was left for years with symptoms. More specifically she would have laughing spasms, where for no reason at all she would start laughing uncontrollably. These symptoms persisted all through her time during the war and only ended years later.
Also during her stay at Panchi, Sarah befriended a young man whom she later discovered to be a baron’s son. He once offered to take Sarah home with him after her stay in Panchi; he said that his father could get her the proper papers that would allow her to work at his father’s house as a maid or housekeeper. As a young girl on her own, Sarah was wary and she said that she would only accept his generous offer if he could take Sarah’s friends too (with her in Panchi, there were 4 or 5). The baron’s son could not, but he still tried to persuade her; he even warned her that the German soldiers would eventually move her from the labor camp to somewhere worse. Sarah did not believe him though. Even though she had heard stories about concentration camps, she believed them to be nothing more than rumors and she insisted that the soldiers would eventually take the Jews back to the Jewish houses in Budapest. But as we objective observers of history know – this was not to be. After her time in Panchi was over, Sarah began her first death march.
On the contrary of Sarah’s belief that shortly her and her friends would be sent back to Budapest, she began to her first death march to Austria. After the German incorporation in Austria, Mauthausen was the name of the main Nazi camp. Sarah’s first death march was to Mauthausen, she was sixteen. The death marches were one of the most challenging times of Sarah’s life. The Germans would allow them to stop at some places from time to time on during the day, yet these marches were tortuous and often lasted for days without food or anything. She always considered herself a resourceful girl. On the march, Sarah would gather sorrel from the side of the road to help replenish her. Sorrel tastes sour and looks like spinach leaves. Even though this helped rejuvenate her, after awhile it would make her mouth numb. Thanks to her life growing up on farm, she picked up small but significant tips such as this and fortunately it helped her survive throughout the Holocaust. The first day her feet began to swell, but by the second day she felt terribly exhausted and frail. Sarah then fell to the ground and crawled on her hands and knees on the railroad with gravel that made her bleed everywhere. Sarah felt she wouldn’t survive, though she forced herself to keep up with the other Jews, including her friends. There were only one hundred meters left and she had no doubt that if she didn’t keep up the other Jews and the Germans; the Nazi’s would shoot her. Ironically, as she remembered her mother (an influence imbedded deep inside her) as she crawled on all fours and thought to herself: “I can’t disappoint my mother; if I don’t survive she will kill me!”
While crawling on the railroad ground Sarah lost her friends in the crowd. She made it through the march, and fortunately her friends found her. Sarah was helpless and bleeding terribly. With the little resources the Jews had to care for themselves, her friends bandaged her by tearing cloth from her dress. Sarah still had her brother’s pants and shoes that were going to be traded in for food. She never wore pants before in her life. They were a nice pair of wool pants, her friends put them on her to help protect and heal her wounds. Her friends also put his shoes on her; they were like glove, kit leather. Sarah did not to give up either of them seeing that they were for food, but with her condition they were necessary. She was in the concentration camp for a little less than a year and her brother’s shoes and pants lasted her the entire time.
Throughout her time in the concentration camp, the fear of dying never diminished. There were times towards the end when Sarah believed she was going to die for sure. There were a couple of close calls when the Germans received orders to kill all of the Jews in her camp. One time, the Germans received orders from Berlin to take the Jews to Lintz, where they had gas chambers. They waited a few days, though fortunately this was towards the end of the war and that particular camp had recently been taken over by the Americans. Another time, the Germans were ordered to pour gasoline over the barracks (where Sarah and the Jews were staying) lock them inside and set them all on fire. That plan also fell through because by this time the Americans were too close and the Germans didn’t have enough time to follow through on these orders. Instead the Germans were ordered to wait for the Americans as they put up a white flag over their building. Although when the Americans arrived, the Germans were already gone. When put on trial after the war, the man in charge of the camp was ultimately set free. Even though he was ordered to kill the Jews in his camp in various horrific ways, it didn’t happen, so he was set free!
When Sarah was liberated, the Jews were so disoriented and weak some of them could hardly move because of the forced labor and lack of food for months; some had even endured years of this maltreatment. Sarah was too weak to go to the warehouses that the Americans provided with food. This didn’t limit her witness to the madness of the survivors though. People were wild during this time and starving. Some were so weak they were trampled to death by people trying to get to the food stores. Sarah saw many people die while trying to replenish themselves. One memory that to this day remains vivid in her mind was she remembers seeing many Jewish men and women dead on the ground with a can of food in one hand and a spoon in the other. These people resembled skeletons from being compounded for so long without food. Unfortunately they died trying to eat immediately after their liberation; their bodies could not take the food.
As many died trying to bring themselves back to life on their own, the smart ones checked themselves into American hospitals; Sarah was one of these. In the beginning of rejuvenation, one could only digest water used to boil rice and later, real rice. It made Sarah sick trying to replenish herself. She didn’t want to stay in the hospital though, so Sarah went to a German compound in the military after the liberation. She stayed there for four weeks to slowly regain her strength with rice water and eventually real rice like the others.
Sarah was officially liberated on May 4th 1945. Like other Jewish survivors from the concentration camps, Sarah not only developed Typhus during the war, but even after recovering, the symptoms remained with her for more than a year. After her liberation Sarah went to Budapest, where survivors went to stay with different hosting families who assisted in their difficult road to recovery. The family that hosted Sarah had two children who played the violin. After staying with them for about two weeks, Sarah experienced a heart wrenching revelation. This moment embedded tears in her memory and was extremely important to Sarah. She politely excused herself to the restroom and cried harder than ever before or since in her entire life. She realized she was an orphan. Her parents and her sister were dead. After seeing this family and the wholesome dynamic they had, she realized she would never have this –it was then that her laughing spasms (which had developed after having Typhus) stopped completely.
The Americans registered her after the compound to Czechoslovakia. At this time the few friends she had who stayed close to her throughout the camp were finally separated because they were registered in Romania. As Sarah went with her group trying to get back to Czechoslovakia, she often times had to walk from one station to the other because the railroads were bombed out. It was still dangerous in surrounding countries. For example, Jews would be killed if they went back home to Poland. Even though the trauma and unspeakable experiences Sarah went through made her a lonely young girl without parents or a sister, ultimately she still had her brothers. Her and her brothers stayed in contact by writing to one another from the labor camps. They were in Budapest. When she finally arrived home to see her brothers, they were out of town in Romania. The landlady who greeted Sarah was told by her brothers to bath her in milk and honey when she arrived. Sarah lost her hair when she came home and wore a scarf. Fortunately her brothers help revive her spirit back to life, they danced with her and helped her get use to living again.
Sarah eventually moved to a displacement camp after her liberation. These camps were established by Americans and the English; they were developed for survivors in her area after the war. It was at this displacement camp Sarah met her husband Art, who was originally from Poland. He had gone East at the start of the war and had ended up in a labor camp in Siberia for remainder of the war. He lived in a fourplex next door to her. At the time Art was one of two boys that were courting Sarah. He would come over from time to time and play cards with her brothers. Sarah stayed at this camp until 1946. She and Art knew each other for one year before they married in 1947; she was nineteen. Art was a twenty-seven year old, established young man, who took care of Sarah. Their first son was born in 1948, just one year into their marriage. Despite her experiences in the Holocaust, when Sarah was young she felt she was just like everyone else, she just went through different things and experiences. She too wanted a family and wanted to own nice things.
Sarah and Art lived in Berlin from 1949 to 1956. Sarah learned everything there before coming to the United States in 1956. They also had their second son in Berlin. Art made a very good living there and was able to bring 25,000 in U.S money to the states. He first worked in the toy business in a polish area in Detroit, Michigan. In 1958 Sarah and Art moved to Los Angeles. She came in contact with other immigrants in North Hollywood, which is where the biggest education in assimilation took place. She learned how to color her hair and began to understand Los Angeles’s cultural normalities. Art began to work in the business of establishing parking lots and structures and became one of the biggest property buyers in the beginning of the 70s. Today Sarah is a surprisingly vibrant eighty-one year old woman keeping up a beautiful four bedroom house with a little apartment outside in an upscale area Los Angeles. She and Art bought this house in 1972 and she has lived there for thirty-eight years.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Reflections after our visit
Despite from feeling exceedingly nervous about the interview, after Amanda and I walked into Sarah's beautiful home I felt at ease. She had pleasant energy. It was apparent she was willing to answer any of our questions so the uncomfortable idea of attempting to probe Sarah fell out of my mind. Amanda and I had planned to record Sarah with a video camera (which was my initial part) but it didn't feel right after sitting down in her dining room which she had set up with coffee and snacks and such. Video taping her would have been to impersonal. I'm glad we decided to document the interview by hand instead.
Sarah seemed like a strong woman. I thought her story was amazing and heart felt. It allowed me to actualize the Jew's situation in the Holocaust (which is something I honestly was trying to avoid up until this point because of how surreal and horrific the Germans treated them) from a survivor's personal stand point. Her demeanor stood out to me the most. Even when she was talking about the most extreme circumstances, she always seemed to purposefully want us to notice a positive outlook on the situation. For example, because she grew up on a farm she was very knowledgeable about plants and things in the country that were edible. On a death march (I believe her first) she would pick sorrel from the side of the road to eat (sorrel is similar to spinach). She said if I didn't grow up on a farm and know these things there was no way of knowing small but significant knowledge like that. Another time I thought it was ironic that she said "hilter was the matchmaker" because she met he husband in a displacement camp after the war. Her and her family would actually joke about that. I suppose it was interesting and comforting to see her smile and laugh about the past in such a way.
I was very curious throughout the interview of the turning point or a realization she had about her family, specifically how her parents and sister were murdered. When I asked her, I felt that was the most emotional part for me to take it and for her to articulate. It was when she was with a hosting family after her liberation that she realized she was an orphan. She saw this family and their children and basically broke down and cried uncontrollably. She was so young and to be put through all that is unreal. At that point her symptoms of typhus finally faded as she stopped laughing.
I also found it difficult to ask these sort of questions. Although considering she agreed to have the interview and is a grown woman now, maybe she has somewhat put the past away deep inside of her or is now willing to talk about it and tell her story. I know she has been writing her memoirs, but I also know she was never interviewed by students before.
The interview went extremely well. I thought it was adorable and comforting how she showed us her collectibles and pictures of her family and children. It's astonishing to me how life goes on. Sarah is an amazing individual and her outlook on life isn't so different from another common woman in my personal opinion. She adores her beautiful dresses and shoes. She wanted to live a good life, have a family, have nice things like many others.
The ONLY thing I would possibly wish would have turned out a little different, is the fact that we did the entire interview in one session. I would have rather have reflected on the questions and answers and come back to see her again. Overall though it was a great experience and opportunity to meet with her and be a part of this.
Sarah seemed like a strong woman. I thought her story was amazing and heart felt. It allowed me to actualize the Jew's situation in the Holocaust (which is something I honestly was trying to avoid up until this point because of how surreal and horrific the Germans treated them) from a survivor's personal stand point. Her demeanor stood out to me the most. Even when she was talking about the most extreme circumstances, she always seemed to purposefully want us to notice a positive outlook on the situation. For example, because she grew up on a farm she was very knowledgeable about plants and things in the country that were edible. On a death march (I believe her first) she would pick sorrel from the side of the road to eat (sorrel is similar to spinach). She said if I didn't grow up on a farm and know these things there was no way of knowing small but significant knowledge like that. Another time I thought it was ironic that she said "hilter was the matchmaker" because she met he husband in a displacement camp after the war. Her and her family would actually joke about that. I suppose it was interesting and comforting to see her smile and laugh about the past in such a way.
I was very curious throughout the interview of the turning point or a realization she had about her family, specifically how her parents and sister were murdered. When I asked her, I felt that was the most emotional part for me to take it and for her to articulate. It was when she was with a hosting family after her liberation that she realized she was an orphan. She saw this family and their children and basically broke down and cried uncontrollably. She was so young and to be put through all that is unreal. At that point her symptoms of typhus finally faded as she stopped laughing.
I also found it difficult to ask these sort of questions. Although considering she agreed to have the interview and is a grown woman now, maybe she has somewhat put the past away deep inside of her or is now willing to talk about it and tell her story. I know she has been writing her memoirs, but I also know she was never interviewed by students before.
The interview went extremely well. I thought it was adorable and comforting how she showed us her collectibles and pictures of her family and children. It's astonishing to me how life goes on. Sarah is an amazing individual and her outlook on life isn't so different from another common woman in my personal opinion. She adores her beautiful dresses and shoes. She wanted to live a good life, have a family, have nice things like many others.
The ONLY thing I would possibly wish would have turned out a little different, is the fact that we did the entire interview in one session. I would have rather have reflected on the questions and answers and come back to see her again. Overall though it was a great experience and opportunity to meet with her and be a part of this.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Post Meeting Excitement!
So Carly and I had our interview with Sarah today. It really was amazing. We arrived at her (gorgeous) house around 2pm and stayed until 5pm. Hearing what was basically her life story was difficult, but very enjoyable. Both Carly and I were excessively excited to find out that even though Sarah has not talked too much to students before she was very open and welcoming and was always prompting us to ask questions. She did not seem at all reluctant to talk about her experiences and she actually laughed quite a bit in nostalgia. Not only that, but boy, was she a hostess! As soon as we walked in she started pouring coffee and asking us if we would like to sample some cake and ice cream - she had a full tea party spread just waiting for us.
While I will not go into detail on the actual interview now (a full summary/transcript-like text will be coming later in the week), there are a few details about it that definitely struck me. One was just how much Sarah seemed to love life. This did not seem like a woman, who had in her teens experienced more persecution than most people experience in their whole life time. She was smiling and happy and often pointing out pictures and talking about the people in them or opening up her glass cabinets to show off her fine crystal and porcelain collectibles. One of the most beautiful figures she had was of an 18th century aristocrat woman drinking coffee and eating cookies while dressed in fine attire with her feet propped upon a cushioned stool. "This is how I like to think of myself" is what Sarah said while I admired it. What a thought! To feel that life has treated you so well.
The other thing that struck me was how much she reminded me of the women in my family. Every few minutes she would say something and I would think "That's exactly what my grandma would say!" or "That's just what my mom is like," or "Wow, I've totally done that before!" How amazing is it that someone who has had a completely different experience from myself could be so relatable?
The final thing that I wish to meditate on is one of the final statements made as Carly and I were being escorted out the door after our almost 3 hour visit. Sarah made the bold and proud statement "I am strong." I find this so great because, first of all, it's so true. Not only is Sarah's Holocaust experience and survival a testament to that, but also her current lifestyle. For her age (which I will not record here for courtesy's sake - besides, you wouldn't believe me anyway) she looks quite fabulous and she keeps an impeccable home. Second of all, I find it wonderful that she is in fact, so bold to proclaim her own strength. From my observations of society, I have come to the conclusion that too often those who deserve recognition and praise do not receive or accept it, and those who do not will most often proclaim their positives. Sarah, on the other hand, is completely honest and deserving in her self praise. This is not to say that she is not humble - quite the opposite in fact - but it is refreshing to hear someone make a statement that demonstrates how well they know themselves. It really is a beautiful thing.
While I will not go into detail on the actual interview now (a full summary/transcript-like text will be coming later in the week), there are a few details about it that definitely struck me. One was just how much Sarah seemed to love life. This did not seem like a woman, who had in her teens experienced more persecution than most people experience in their whole life time. She was smiling and happy and often pointing out pictures and talking about the people in them or opening up her glass cabinets to show off her fine crystal and porcelain collectibles. One of the most beautiful figures she had was of an 18th century aristocrat woman drinking coffee and eating cookies while dressed in fine attire with her feet propped upon a cushioned stool. "This is how I like to think of myself" is what Sarah said while I admired it. What a thought! To feel that life has treated you so well.
The other thing that struck me was how much she reminded me of the women in my family. Every few minutes she would say something and I would think "That's exactly what my grandma would say!" or "That's just what my mom is like," or "Wow, I've totally done that before!" How amazing is it that someone who has had a completely different experience from myself could be so relatable?
The final thing that I wish to meditate on is one of the final statements made as Carly and I were being escorted out the door after our almost 3 hour visit. Sarah made the bold and proud statement "I am strong." I find this so great because, first of all, it's so true. Not only is Sarah's Holocaust experience and survival a testament to that, but also her current lifestyle. For her age (which I will not record here for courtesy's sake - besides, you wouldn't believe me anyway) she looks quite fabulous and she keeps an impeccable home. Second of all, I find it wonderful that she is in fact, so bold to proclaim her own strength. From my observations of society, I have come to the conclusion that too often those who deserve recognition and praise do not receive or accept it, and those who do not will most often proclaim their positives. Sarah, on the other hand, is completely honest and deserving in her self praise. This is not to say that she is not humble - quite the opposite in fact - but it is refreshing to hear someone make a statement that demonstrates how well they know themselves. It really is a beautiful thing.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Pre-Interview Jitters
Well I suppose this is my (or should I say "our" since Carly and I share this blog) first blog entry. This is kind of exciting! I suppose it is only appropriate for me to introduce myself.
My name is Amanda Zeitler. I am a sophomore at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles. I'm an English major with a Theatre minor and the reason I am creating this blog (the first in my whole life - which is odd considering our youth's obsession with the digital luxuries of the age) for a class project. I am currently taking a literature class entitled "The Holocaust in Poland" and we are partnering with another class at California State University Northridge. The goal of this project is for me (and my partner, Carly) to interview a Holocaust survivor named Sarah Lumer and to record and reflect on our experiences with her here on this blog.
The interview was supposed to take place this past Sunday, but due to scheduling conflicts, we've put it off until this coming Sunday (March 21). And I have never been so nervous. I'm honestly not sure what to expect from this experience. After all the reading and video-watching and examining we have done in this class, I can definitely say I have a MUCH deeper understanding of the horrors and traumas that survivors went through. That said, I have no idea how Mrs. Lumer or I will react to this interview. Or if it will even be successful. Dr. Levitsky warned us that our survivors may not want to talk about their experience. What if this happens? What am I going to have to work with on this project? We were also warned that survivors may get very emotional (and understandably so). What do I do if this happens? How do I handle it? Obviously my goal is to be as compassionate and understanding as possible and to do my best to really listen. But despite these goals, what if something goes horribly wrong?
Perhaps my fears are irrational or unnecessary. Regardless, they are there and I do not think I will be able to get rid of them. At least not until Sunday when I finally have to swallow them and take whatever's thrown at me. Wish me luck!
My name is Amanda Zeitler. I am a sophomore at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles. I'm an English major with a Theatre minor and the reason I am creating this blog (the first in my whole life - which is odd considering our youth's obsession with the digital luxuries of the age) for a class project. I am currently taking a literature class entitled "The Holocaust in Poland" and we are partnering with another class at California State University Northridge. The goal of this project is for me (and my partner, Carly) to interview a Holocaust survivor named Sarah Lumer and to record and reflect on our experiences with her here on this blog.
The interview was supposed to take place this past Sunday, but due to scheduling conflicts, we've put it off until this coming Sunday (March 21). And I have never been so nervous. I'm honestly not sure what to expect from this experience. After all the reading and video-watching and examining we have done in this class, I can definitely say I have a MUCH deeper understanding of the horrors and traumas that survivors went through. That said, I have no idea how Mrs. Lumer or I will react to this interview. Or if it will even be successful. Dr. Levitsky warned us that our survivors may not want to talk about their experience. What if this happens? What am I going to have to work with on this project? We were also warned that survivors may get very emotional (and understandably so). What do I do if this happens? How do I handle it? Obviously my goal is to be as compassionate and understanding as possible and to do my best to really listen. But despite these goals, what if something goes horribly wrong?
Perhaps my fears are irrational or unnecessary. Regardless, they are there and I do not think I will be able to get rid of them. At least not until Sunday when I finally have to swallow them and take whatever's thrown at me. Wish me luck!
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