Showing Results 1 - 7 of 7
When I was born, I was given the name Manuel, after my grandfather, Manuel Alvares Pinto, as was said earlier. For this reason and because I was my father’s eldest son, my grandfather always had me…
[…] I want to tell you about my brother’s ghost.
I had so looked forward to seeing him again: my Schorschi, my Czech brother, who had sent us a few postcards from Theresienstadt. But he wasn’t there…
One of the more bitter days of my life that I will never ever forget is the 17th Adar 5677 [11 March 1917] at dawn when I was already being sought [the authorities had already dogged my footsteps and…
With zeal and zest I threw myself into the work to help assemble archive materials. I was entrusted to be the custodian, I hid the material. Besides me, no one knew. I confided only in my friend Hersh…
One week later, as we returned from work, there, in the middle of the camp, in the Appelplatz, stood a black gallows.
We learned that soup would be distributed only after roll call, which lasted…
The bathroom looked as though some spiteful thug had left his calling card after having robbed the house. As my father was tended to and he was what counted, I would just as soon have nailed the door…
All of us—dying here in polar, ice-cold indifference of nations, forgotten by the world and its hustle and bustle—have nonetheless felt the need to leave something for posterity: if not complete…