creating a poesiealbum, one reader at a time

March 16, 2012

'Those Terrible Goodbyes'



We've been together forever, or so it seems
But now we're apart, with no way to be together
We know each other’s secrets that we will keep for a life time
Throughout all the pain and troubles we will overcome

Being apart will be the hardest thing we've ever done
We'll fight to the finish for us to be together again
Even though we aren't together now
We'll make the best of it throughout time

We know that it is going to be tough
But we are willing to fight for our friendship
Life is going to be difficult when we are apart
But life will be better as soon as we are together again

We have known that we will have to be apart
But now that the day has come, we are not ready
We are not ready to say our goodbyes
To watch us separate with no way to fight 

Finally as we realize that our time has come
We say our final goodbyes, but hopefully not for long
We always hope and pray for the days that we will reunite
But hope that we will never again have to say those terrible goodbyes


Farewells are such a central theme in The Year of Goodbyes. This poem from 14-year-old Taylor Wilson of Fairport Harbor, Ohio, really captures the emotion behind that theme.  Thank you, Taylor, for honoring "those terrible goodbyes."




March 11, 2012

'They Were Happy, They Were Loved'

Thirteen-year-old Sarah Kazsmer of Fairport Harbor, Ohio, uses poetic meter and rhyme to take the reader back to the harrowing times before and during World War II.  "They all see now that it is too late," she writes, "The Nazis have closed the doors of hate."  Many thanks, Sarah, for your thoughtful and beautiful poem.

Europe peacefully lay in bed
In the attempt to clear their heads;
Clear it of their tears and clear it of sorrow
From the worries of what might happen tomorrow;


The worries that what they had today
Could very soon be taken away;
Nazis could come and take everything
To a place where there are no songs to sing;

Jews that are taken fear for their lives
For they know this is the place where no one survives;
They all see now that it is too late
The Nazis have closed the doors of hate;

Soon all that will be left is their clothes and shoes
And as the Nazis see it, no more issues;
Scared to death they say their goodbyes
And then there are no more teary eyes;

No more smiles and no more songs
Was this meant to happen all along?
No, they were happy, they were loved,
But I guess none of that was ever enough.

March 8, 2012

"We Can Finally Breathe"



Cora Paolino, age 14, so aptly captures the feelings refugees such as my mother experienced when they finally arrived in their new homes after fleeing Nazi Germany.  "We can finally breathe," her poem confides.  The final line of the poem, too, is so fitting:  "There is still a life to fill."

Many thanks to this middle grade student from Fairport Harbor, Ohio.

March 5, 2012

What If

What if? asks 14-year-old Lauren Sell after reading The Year of Goodbyes.  She's an eighth grader at Fairport Harding Middle School, Fairport Harbor, Ohio.  Her poem poses the kinds of questions most of us have asked at one time or another.  Thanks, Lauren, for your thoughtful contribution.

WHAT IF?

By: Lauren Sell

What if we were all friends?
What if there was no fighting?
What if we didn’t kill each other?
What if we were all treated equal?

?

What if…
What if there was no racism?
What if there was no music?
What if we had no emotions?
Wish it were that easy…
But not all of this is true
And there is nothing we can do
Everything happens for a reason
BUT…

WHAT IF?

What if….

What if there was no holocaust?
What if Hitler was never born?
Would they all be friends?
Germans and Jews would have gotten along.
Would the world have
Been different if the
Holocaust never happened?




February 29, 2012

'The Down-Sizing of Another Human'


Verlin Williams writes that he is an eighth grade African-American student who found that The Year of Goodbyes "really put the reader in your mother's 'shoes.'"  He observes that discrimination is still a problem in the United States, and his poem--which has a memorable first line--takes on that problem. 

Verlin's poem also specifically addresses the conflict that can arise between our free speech rights and the problem of discrimination.  How do we balance one person’s right to speak one’s mind freely with another person’s right to be free from discrimination?  Here's a thought (which I have seen attributed to Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.) that I find helpful in thinking about this: “The right to swing my fist ends where the other man's nose begins.”

Verlin attends Fairport Harding Middle School in Fairport Harbor, Ohio.  I hope he has the opportunity to explore these issues further.  Maybe law school is in his future?


Discrimination In a Free-Nation

Discrimination, the down-sizing of another human.  Period.
Why, because discrimination can deal with Race, Religion, Sexuality, Age,
Sex, etc. This unjust treatment of people can hurt the feelings of others and
Very much lead them to do harmful things, either to themselves or others.
Discrimination is an issue, a very big issue that might not be resolved.
An issue that brings out nothing but hate between two or more people.
It is breaking apart our communities and harming the world.
We, as Americans, still have discrimination today, even though we have laws
That speak about freedom of religion, sexuality, and such things that are
Supposed to help protect us.
There is one thing that doesn't help as much; freedom of speech.
It does give us the right to talk as we want to and how we please,
But it also gives the people who choose to discriminate the right to do so,
Even on international television. Some of our favorite tv shows discriminate.
This ISSUE is a PROBLEM, and this PROBLEM can be FIXED, but it WILL be a
CHALLENGE. If we do not fix this problem soon another war might break out.
Whether it be between just the U.S. and itself or it could be the world,
Causing World War III. Discrimination in our country is tearing us apart.
An ISSUE, A PROBLEM, is killing our nation, but I believe that one day we WILL change all
of this and be truly UNITED.




February 28, 2012

'We are all the same/In many different ways"


Fourteen-year-old Josh Davison of Fairport Harbor, Ohio, recently read The Year of Goodbyes in his eighth grade English class at Fairport Harding Middle School.  He was inspired to write a poem exploring the idea of differences.  I especially like his lines, "We are all the same/In many different ways." 

Thanks, Josh, for sending your poem.

January 7, 2012

Thinking of Madzia ("Manja") Stahl


As I was completing work on The Year of Goodbyes, the Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. became the U.S. depository of millions of documents from what had previously been the largest closed Holocaust archive in the world.  The archive, called the International Tracing Service, was established by the Allies at the end of World War II in Bad Arolsen, Germany.  In 2008, the ITS made its archive available to the U.S. Holocaust Museum; the Museum then allowed survivors and their relatives (like me) to file requests for Museum researchers to search the archive for information on specific individuals. 

I filed a big batch of requests in January 2009 and started getting responses about two months later.  For the most part, the newly opened archive did not produce any revelations about the people in The Year of Goodbyes.  There was one significant exception.

That exception related to Manja Stahl, my mother’s first cousin from Pabiance, Poland.  She created this page ("Have a heart!  Look into a heart!") for my mother’s poesiealbum when my mother last saw her in Pabianice in October 1938.  At the time my mother, Jutta, was almost 12 and Manja was 18.  My mother just adored her older cousin.


(It’s in Chapter XVI of The Year of Goodbyes.) 

Our family had been somewhat uncertain about what had happened to Manja.  Someone said she died in the Lodz Ghetto.  But two relatives who were imprisoned in the Auschwitz concentration camp with Manja said she died there.  This was what members of my family believed for more than 60 years.

The newly released archive documents showed that, although she was imprisoned at Auschwitz, Manja did not perish there.  Instead, the documents showed, she was sent from Auschwitz to Stutthof concentration camp on September 27, 1944.  Here is the list of transported prisoners:



The names are blurry, but Manja's is visible about 3/4 of the way down the page, along with her birthdate (October 26, 1920) and prisoner number.

Here is the personal prisoner card the Nazis created for Manja when she was at Stutthof:


(Although for ease of pronunciation I’ve spelled her name as “Manja” in my book, its proper form is “Madzia.”)

And here is a document from the Stutthof camp “doctor” declaring Manja dead on January 7, 1945 from “complete body weakness” in block 29 of the camp.  The form also mentions that her body was cremated for “hygienic” reasons. 


 And here is a death notice form filled out by Stutthof officials on January 8, 1945.  The form says that Manja was a household laborer at the camp, and repeats that she died the day before from “body weakness.”


The death notice also includes a second page signed by one SS Junior “Storm” leader stating that there were no circumstances to indicate that Manja's death occurred due to any criminal action against her.  That, to say the least, is some kind of untruth.  Here it is:


By the time I obtained all this information in 2009, The Year of Goodbyes was going to press.  I was able to change the statement that had been in my original manuscript asserting that Manja died at Auschwitz; the book correctly puts her place of death at Stutthof.  But I could not add the other details described here.

It was, and remains, so unsettling for me to think about these details.  I already knew that this young woman died at the hands of the Nazis.  Why, then, are these new details so agonizing?  Because—to think of Manja actually surviving Auschwitz (where her mother died) and then being shipped hundreds of miles north to Stutthof. . . . And to think of Manja surviving until January 1945, with the end of the war only four months away. . . .

Devastating. 

But Manja’s death from “total body weakness” in the camp may have been a blessing of sorts. The Nazis conducted forced evacuations of Stutthof as the war’s end neared, starting around the time of her death.  Thousands were marched into the Baltic Sea, where they were shot.  Thousands died from the harsh winter conditions in which they marched.  In January 1945, there were 50,000 prisoners at Stutthof.  When Allied forces liberated Stutthof on May 9, 1945—it was the last camp to be liberated—they found a total of 100 surviving prisoners.

Manja Stahl died in the Stutthoff concentration camp 67 years ago today.  She was 25 years old. 

(I am indebted to Gretchen Guy, researcher at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum, for unearthing the archive documents and explaining their meaning to me.)