The Student News Site of Shorecrest Preparatory School

The Chronicle

The Student News Site of Shorecrest Preparatory School

The Chronicle

The Student News Site of Shorecrest Preparatory School

The Chronicle

Sharing Stories: Lessons Gleaned from Holocaust Survivors

     When Board Chairman of the Florida Holocaust Museum Mike Igel spoke to the Shorecrest Upper School, he concluded with the message that the people sitting next to us might have stories as profound as his to share, so we should seek them out. In that spirit, The Chronicle decided to do just that. 

     On Tuesday, April 2, 2024, Igel presented to the Shorecrest Upper School, in short, about being an upstander. In long, he told the devastating, yet ultimately uplifting, story of his grandparents surviving the Holocaust and the lessons he gleaned from his ancestors. 

     After hearing from Igel, junior Zev Schulman, whose grandparents are also Holocaust survivors, said he thought the speech “gave [Shorecrest Upper School] a different perspective, probably a more personal story than just hearing about what the Holocaust was, especially hearing directly from a survivor’s descendants. It probably helped people understand more of how brutal and terrible the whole thing was.” 

     Freshman Diana Muzzarelli is intimately familiar with how brutal it was. Her great-grandfather is also a Holocaust survivor, and she listened to his story growing up.

     Before the Holocaust, her great-grandfather was a Polish-German Jew living in a small town in Poland with family nearby, including his cousin Frida and her parents.

     The Nazis invaded their small village in Poland when her great-grandfather, Manny Hafler, was about 13 or 14. They “just started shooting. He saw his mother and father and sister shot right in front of his eyes, so all he could do was hide in that moment…He was hiding in the corner of his house or a barn or something, and all he could do was hope.”

     Hafler was the only surviving member of his immediate family.  However, a little while later, he found out that his cousin Frida and her parents had survived.

     Now, without a home, safety, or a community, Hafler and his remaining family had to reckon with their future.

     “Eventually they found a farmer who had an attic, it was kind of like a hay loft.” Frida and Hafler’s aunt and uncle asked the farmer to stay, and he agreed, but only for the three of them, since Hafler joined the trio later and snuck into the attic. 

     Hafler’s uncle originally didn’t let him into the loft, but his aunt insisted. Hafler had almost been abandoned.

     “In the hayloft, it was very shallow and they couldn’t stand up, and kind of all they could do was lie there. The farm was right next to the Gestapo (the Nazi secret police) so they couldn’t talk. If they talked, they would get shot. So they went two years without talking, standing up—just lying there.”

     The farmer sent up a pail with bread, potatoes, and water daily, but “only enough food for three people because he thought there were three people there. And my great-grandpa’s at the most formative stages of his life—13, 14, 15—I don’t think he got out until he was 17, so he was always hungry, and there wasn’t enough food for everyone. So, Frida and her mom shared with him, but it wasn’t even close to enough.” 

     After being liberated, Hafler couldn’t walk since he had been lying down for years without end. He was rushed to a hospital where he was abandoned by Frida and her parents.

 

Cont: 

 

     “There were camps to try to get people whose parents were killed back on their feet. So he went into one of those camps for a while and in this camp he learned how to walk again.” At the age of 17, Hafler was learning to walk again. He had to restart his life, beginning with the opportunity to go to America.

     Igel and Muzzarelli’s stories, while vastly different, have underlying similarities in their messages. 

     Igel’s story was about how “everybody’s lives are kind of dependent on each other, just because of how he was always emphasizing that he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the heroic actions of some other people saving his grandparents. Everything leads to one another, and something that might seem small in the past has massive implications in the future,” said Schulman. 

     Both stories emphasize how, without the compassion of strangers, entire familial lines would’ve been gone. In Muzzarelli’s story, without the farmer providing shelter and food, Hafler, Frida, and her parents wouldn’t have survived.

     For Muzzarelli, she took away that “in a time of so much hate, [the upstanders] could find a way to give love and give it back to the community. They genuinely did every single thing they could for [my grandfather’s] family, and I think that’s really incredible…The farmer risked his life for my family, and unfortunately we don’t really know anything about who he is.”

     Schulman, in a similar vein, said, “The people were the true heroes of that time. He mentioned upstanders and bystanders, so maybe he was trying to connect that to what you do within your life and whether you’re going to be an upstander or a bystander and take control when you’re an adult and need to do the right thing.”

     And that was Igel’s message, that these stories full of so much tragedy can not only shed light on historical events, but can make impressions upon the listeners of these stories and help them be better versions of themselves. 

 

     

 

Zev:

“My family’s connection to Judaism really just roots back to my grandparents, who were in the Holocaust.”

“We’re not super religious about things but we always keep track of the holidays and talk about the Holocaust and talk about Jewish fundamentals and doing mitzvahs.”

“My grandma was in a work camp, I don’t know exactly where, in Germany. I know my grandpa was in a couple death camps, including Auschwitz. The rest of the family, like sisters and brothers of my grandparents, were all kind of spread out.”

“My grandma and her sister came out because they were liberated and then my grandpa came out because he was liberated as well.”

“With my grandma, it was different. She had to work, and from whatever she would tell us from what she remembered, they wouldn’t get that much food. They would get like soup and potatoes and they had to work pretty hard. My grandpa, I wasn’t really around to know what his experiences were, but he was probably always wondering when it would be over for him considering he was in multiple death camps.”

“They didn’t get really fed anything and did what they were told to do.”

“My grandpa was more verbal about it. My grandma never really talked about it too much, even before she had memory issues. It wasn’t something she would talk about a lot.”

“Maybe it was just a feeling of ‘that was in the past, and I’m here now, and there’s no need to recollect those memories.’ But I mean if we did ask her about it, she would answer.”

“Everybody’s lives are kind of dependent on each other, just because of how he was always emphasized how he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the heroic actions of some other people back in the times saving his grandparents. Everything leads to one another, and something that might seem small in the past has massive implications in the future.” 

“The people were the true heroes of that time. He mentioned upstanders and bystanders, so maybe he was trying to connect that to what you do within your life and whether you’re going to be an upstander or a bystander and take control when you’re an adult and need to do the right thing.”

“Obviously, it gave them a different perspective, probably a more personal story than just hearing about what the Holocaust was, especially hearing directly from a survivor. It probably helped people understand more of how brutal and terrible the whole thing was.” 

“I don’t think anybody was exposed to it for the first time.”

“Don’t take anything for granted because you never know when things can turn around in a minute. Obviously that was a pretty severe case, but overall just work hard at what you’re doing because you never know when things could change.”

“They were just looking for work, and once they found work and were able to settle down, for them it was just about keeping a bloodline going, so they had kids. They were all about supporting their children, and that’s what my grandma’s still about today.”

“For her it’s about the future and making sure everyone below her is in good hands.”

 

Diana:

“My grandma is an Ashkenazi Jew and my grandpa is a Polish-German Jew.”

“My grandpa, when he was little, lived with his siblings and his mother and father on a farm in a small town in Poland.”

“In this farm in Poland they had all their family nearby, their relatives, his cousin Frida and her parents.”

“When the Nazis came into the country and started to take stuff he was about 13.”

“When the Nazi’s invaded Poland he was about 13 or 14 and then eventually the Nazi’s came into his village and just started shooting. He saw his mother and father and sister shot right in front of his eyes, so all he could do was hide in that moment.”

“He was hiding in the corner of his house or a barn or something. And all he could do was hope.”

“He was the only surviving member of his immediate family.”

“After they left he found out that his cousin Frida and their mother and father were alive. So all they could do at that point was go into hiding.”

“I mean it was hard. They were a functioning family, they had dogs, they had relatives.”

“Eventually they found a farmer who had an attic, it was kind of like a hay loft. So they asked the farmer, ‘hey, can we stay in here,’ and originally my great-grandpa wasn’t with them when they asked, so the farmer thought there were only three people. And originally the uncle didn’t want my grandpa to come up with then, but then the aunt said that ‘no, he’s coming up.’”

“In the hayloft it was very shallow and they couldn’t stand up, and kind of all they could do was lie there. And the farm was right next to the gestapo so they couldn’t talk. If they talked they would get shot. So they went two years without talking, standing up—just laying there.”

“Once a day the farmer would send up—like in a pail—bread, potatoes, and my grandpa never mentioned anything about water, but I’m sure there had to be water. But the farmer only sent enough food up for three people because he thought there were three people there. And my grandpa’s at like the most formative stages of his life—13, 14, 15, I don’t think he got out until he was 17, so he was always hungry and there wasn’t enough food for everyone. So, Frida and her mom shared with him but it wasn’t even close to enough.”

“They lived in an attic of a barn for two years where they couldn’t even stand up and they had nothing to eat but potatoes, water, and bread.”

“The farmer risked his life for the family, and unfortunately we don’t really know anything about who he is.”

“The Nazi’s, since the gestapo was right there, were walking back and forth and were checking for Jews. Like if they talked they would get shot. There were so many close encounters and it was really terrifying.”

“When they were liberated, and he got out, he could not walk. When he got out he couldn’t walk and he had to go to a hospital immediately. While he was in the hospital, he was abandoned by Frida, the aunt, and the uncle. So he’s in the hospital by himself, and I think he’s 16 at the time.”

“There were camps to try to get people whose parents were killed back on their feet. So he went into one of those camps for a while and in this camp he learned how to walk again, just got on his feet, and eventually he had the opportunity to go to America, and he jumped at the opportunity.”

“In order to do that he needed a sponsor, and luckily we had family living in New York at the time and they agreed to sponsor him. So, he had maybe a month-long boat ride to America which he described as very, very rough and he got sick and it was not a fun time.”

“He finally got to the US, and the family let him live with them for a while, and then not too long later he met my great-grandma.”

“He never really talked about it to my mom and her brother as kids, but he would tell little tidbits here and there. He was just never fully comfortable opening up about it. But there was this documentary by Stephen Spielberg called “The Shoah” and he talked about it and recollected the whole story on that.”

“I think he had the same issue as a lot of Holocaust survivors. It’s just a horrible event, it’s mass genocide, and it’s really hard to talk about something like that.”

“We’re lucky enough that he wasn’t in one of those internment camps or anything, like I can’t even imagine. It’s like one in a million chance that he’s alive today and that I’m alive today.”

“I’ve always heard the story growing up of my grandfather, but it’s just such an interesting topic to me, I always love to hear other people’s stories and their connections to it. It’s hard for me to process that that happened to someone I’m related to, and it just feels better to know that there’s other people with stories like that.”

“It’s really really good to know that in humanity, while there’s horrible events such as mass genocide, it can bring out the best in people, it really does.”

“In a time of so much hate they could find a way to give love and give it back to the community. They genuinely did every single thing they could for his family, and I think that’s really incredible.”

“I think it opened the eyes of a lot of Shorecrest students, actually. I think antisemitism has become incredibly normalized at Shorecrest and I think it’s really hurtful, it’s offensive, to just blow it off as if it’s trivial. It’s a really heavy topic and so I think sharing that story with just so much detail and emotion really had an impact on the community.”

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Annabella Rozin
Annabella Rozin, Co-Editor-In-Chief

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