Showing Results 1 - 4 of 4
[…] 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…
My mother and father were an embarrassment to me, up until high school. They were much older than my friends’ parents (my dad was forty- seven and my mother was forty- four when I was born), and they…
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…