What does it mean to be a survivor?
We use it in many ways: those who beat cancer; those who pull through a life-threatening accident; those who overcome crippling abuse; and, those who go through war atrocities.
As we learn their stories, our hearts are gripped by the real-life drama, and we wonder—from a safe and comfortable distance—how they ever made it through. It can even read like an adventure novel or political thriller, where the author invents twists and turns to capture the audience.
But history is far more compelling than any novel.
Recently, Dr. Jay Wile (read his post here) and I had the privilege of interviewing Dr. Inge Auerbacher, honored internationally for her work in reconciliation, and known for her books on her experience as a Jewish child in a Nazi concentration camp. Her real life story has incredible twists and turns, from her father being a disabled veteran with an Iron Cross medal after WWI (which made a difference with the Gestapo, allowing this Jewish family to be together in a transit camp for three years rather than being sent to an extermination camp), to being hospitalized after arriving in America for TWO YEARS with tuberculosis as a teenager, to being accepted into medical school in Heidelberg but fleeing when she heard them singing Nazi songs, to becoming a chemist for thirty-eight years, to international renown as an author and human rights activist.
Dr. Wile and I sat, quietly stunned, as she shared personal anecdotes and memories of what every day life was like during the Holocaust, living at the Terezin transit camp. There is something so real about a hungry child’s game of imagining mountains of whipped cream to eat, and of sneaking a look at the infamous Eichmann when he visited the camp. (Inge told us that, as a prisoner, you were not allowed to look at the SS, you were required to bow your heads when they came.)
Inge’s voice trembled a bit as she described that when you went to the camp, virtually everything you owned was taken from you. You had no money, no power, nothing with which to bribe officials. But, somehow, she was able to keep her doll, which survived the concentration camp along with her. (It now resides at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum.) This blonde, blue-eyed doll, whom Inge named “Marlene,” was made for the 1936 Olympics in Berlin, and given to her when she was only two years old by her beloved grandmother (who would later die at the hands of the Nazis at Riga). Her story of how she and her friend, Ruth, would play with their dolls was so typical of young girls.
And, that was what struck me me the most. Some of what Inge described sounded as normal as the child next door: imagination, games, play. She even told us that people in her camp put on actual theater productions from time to time! And, yet, in the same breath, she talked about how few children her age were still living when the camp was liberated. She described her best friend, Ruth, being sent on a train—which sounded so desirable to Inge—only to die at Auschwitz. When I asked her what it felt like, to be in the camp as a child, she said, “We still had hope.” And that is, perhaps, the most critical component of surviving.
Life and death. Hope and helplessness. Family and forced separation. These were the real life experiences for a child who survived the Holocaust.
“I stand tall and proud, My voice shouts in silence loud: I am a real person still, No one can break my spirit or will: I am a star!” Inge Auberbacher, From her book, “I Am A Star” published by Penguin Putnam Inc.
Homeschoolers at the GHC conferences in Ft. Worth, Greenville, and Ontario will be able to hear her amazing story for themselves. Don’t miss this incredible opportunity!
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