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Emmanuel Hollander worked at, and believed in progress, but progress was not a religious notion for him, as it was for his future wife. He was an engineer and knew that every machine began as a…
[…] 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…
A little while later, the women retired to the back room and Samuel and Ethel were the only ones still up. Ethel continued to sew silently, scarcely raising her head when the others left. Samuel…
I have no memory of that train trip, probably because there was nothing to remember. Our arrival in Vienna, on the other hand, impressed me. That city reminded me somewhat of Trieste, with its wide…
I left his house
Of my own volition.
In order to build him a house
Of my own volition.
But it seems my father
Remained solitary
And neglected
Not of his own volition.
I was moving towards my…
When I was twelve, I read The Diary of Anne Frank.
I identified with her having to live
stories above a busy street
over a business, and having to keep quiet
for hours at a time.
I’d pad about on…
I think of my father who believes
a Jew can outrun fate by owning land.
Slave to property now, I mow
and mow, my destiny the new Egypt.
From his father, the tailor, he learned not
to rent but to own…
Hear O Israel, in the depths of our home
There lives alone the empty room
What will we do with it, that empty room
What will we do with it, that empty room
Shall we enter and shove ourselves between…
It is not a grave that opens up to us in this book, but a human heart. the memoirs that are now seeing the light for the first time would have deserved to be published a long time…
A.
Grandma Rekhl—my mother’s mother, whose name the members of the household and the people of the town all pronounced with exactness: Rekhl precisely with an “e,”…