Forward & acknowledgements

Why the Holocaust Still Matters
Testimonies by Maine’s Survivors

By Jack Montgomery 

When I have described this project to both friends and strangers, the first question many ask is,‘Are you Jewish?’ The quizzical look that usually accompanies the question is loaded with unspoken meanings – ‘You don’t look Jewish’, ‘Your name doesn’t sound Jewish’, and most significantly, ‘I don’t get it, why is a non-Jew so interested in the Holocaust?’ Sometimes that last question is asked outright, by both Jews and non-Jews.

One part of the answer to it lies in two events that occurred when I was about 9 years old. I was born exactly at mid-century, in January 1950. I grew up in and around Montclair, New Jersey, in a uniformly white, Christian bubble. I was oblivious to all things Jewish, or Muslim, or black, or anything else not like me. Church meant Episcopal.

The first event occurred when I was spending the night at my grandparents’ home, which I did from time to time. I felt very grown up and independent on these occasions. On this particular evening, as I climbed into bed, I noticed an old Life magazine on the side table with a photograph of a young girl on the cover. She appeared to be just a few years older than me. It was Anne Frank. The article was about her last days of life in the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp, only a few weeks before the end of World War II and the camp’s liberation. As I read the article, I was dumbstruck. In that instant,my young and until then very insulated mind understood for the first time the meaning of true evil – and that children were at risk from horrible people. That image, that story, and my shock have never left me. It did not occur to me at the time that Anne Frank was Jewish – I didn’t know what ‘Jewish’meant. What I did know was that she was a child, like me.

The second event came a few months later. My family had moved into another new uniformly white and Christian neighborhood in North Caldwell, New Jersey. The families on our had street arranged a welcoming cocktail party for my parents. As the evening progressed, one of the women made an antisemitic joke. My mother didn’t laugh. “What’s the matter, Gloria? Didn’t you think it was funny?” asked one of our new neighbors, to which my mother replied, “Actually, I’m Jewish.”
            Actually, she wasn’t Jewish. She was raised a Christian Scientist, but I think she was agnostic by that time. Her response had nothing to do with her religion. It was sparked by her deep dislike of any sort of prejudice or cruelty. In any event, that was the last neighborhood party for my parents. She told me the story a short time later – she was anxious that I hear it and understand it.

The lessons from those two events were planted firmly in my mind. There is evil in the world, and it is often directed at Jews, among others. You don’t laugh at ‘those’ jokes. You don’t play along. You say something or do something, however small, to let your disapproval be known. Ignoring it or playing along is cowardly and ultimately hurtful.

It wasn’t until much later in life that I appreciated the courage it must have taken my mother to say what she did at that party, because she was a very isolated person and needed all the friends she could get. But she would not go along with the crowd. That was something I never forgot.

I have spent the last sixty-plus years absorbed in the history of the twentieth century, and particularly of the rise of totalitarian governments in all their repressive manifestations. This leads me to the answers to why this non-Jew cares so much about the Holocaust. First, I quickly learned that the vast majority of the victims of the Third Reich were Jews, but the frighteningly efficient Nazi machinery was also turned against leftists and moderates, writers, artists, gypsies, teachers, journalists, professors, librarians, booksellers, people who harbored Jews, Protestant ministers and Catholic priests and nuns, gay people, anyone who made a derogatory joke or remark about the regime, and many others. German death squads (the Einsatzgruppen[1]) entering captured territory during their invasion murdered Jews, as well as intellectuals, members of the Catholic clergy, Roma people, and many others. Second, the Nazis were hardly the only mass murderers of the twentieth century. The Soviets under Stalin, the Italians under Mussolini, and scores of other nations perpetrated their own vast repressions, though only the Stalinist Soviet Union competed with the Nazis in terms of scale.

In short, it came to me early on that it would be a grave mistake to conclude that the accounts of repression, sadism, and annihilation that follow in this book represent an anomaly of human nature, something unique to the people of Germany under Hitler. It is the scale, the efficiency, the depravity, and the audacity that render it such a critical aspect of modern history.

Additionally, we need to understand the perpetrators as well as the victims of these crimes. How did Germany transition from an enlightened republic with centuries of high culture into a monster state in just a matter of a few years? What combination of fear, insecurity, and cowardice explains the rise of Hitler’s sadistic regime? 

It is for those reasons that the Holocaust still matters today. Yes, it is about the Jews in Europe, but it is about much more as well. It is a case study that deserves careful examination, particularly among young people, who, sadly, might have little understanding of the events of 1933 to 1945.

I believe that the germ of totalitarianism and repression is present in all nations and, perhaps, in most people. Hopefully, it remains dormant in the absence of stress. But it may flourish in an environment of fear, anger, social dislocation, and economic uncertainty. Its principal catalyst is the rise of leaders who can galvanize those forces into a political movement. The stronger those environmental factors, and the more charismatic and ruthless the leader, the greater the risk of totalitarianism and its inevitable cataclysmic repression. Cowardly silence in the face of evil, by those who know better, is a critical element in this toxic process.

On the other hand, the antidote begins with education and an understanding of the natural progress of the disease among a motivated citizenry courageous enough to address the existential threat it poses. It comes back to the lessons my mother imparted to me at age nine: You don’t play along. You speak up and do something, however small, to let your disapproval be known. Ignoring it or playing along with that behavior is cowardly and ultimately harmful to us all.

***

As I write these words, I believe we are entering into very dark times. Antisemitism, racial hatred, and authoritarianism are closely related viruses that are deeply embedded in the human body politic. They have been there for an incalculable amount of time. They are never cured. At best, we can for a time experience a partial remission. But our species’ resistance to those infections is fading at the moment, and the wave of illness is growing. The disease will run its course until the next partial abatement. This is not a happy thought, but it is what drives me forward to write this book.

It is in that context that I have two related hopes for Soul Survivors. The first is that it might serve as some sort of inoculation against the disease – not preventing it, but mitigating its effects.Every person, young or old, who reads and understands these accounts of the survivors will be armed with the truth about what happened during the Nazi years. If that person has the courage to speak that truth, it will help to protect us against the ravages of hate and fear. But much courage will be necessary in the years ahead.

Second, I firmly believe there will come a time when the illness will abate, although I have no idea what circumstances will bring that about. This brings to mind the account of one of the survivors which you will read below, that of Jutka Isaacson. In June 1944, Jutka and her family were forced by the Nazis into a Jewish ghetto in her town of Kaposvár, Hungary. They knew they were about to be transported to a concentration camp. Shortly before leaving, Jutka risked her life to bury some important objects behind bricks in an old basement. These items included some family heirlooms and her graduation certificate from her Gymnasium (high school). She hid those items in the belief that someday the darkness would pass, and she would return to recover them. That day did come, and she did return. In the photographic portrait that I made of her thirty years ago, she wears the necklace that she had buried. More importantly, the graduation certificate she recovered allowed her to gain advanced admission to Bates College. She went on to become a Bates College dean, a Bowdoin College trustee, a writer, and an educator.

I see that as a metaphor for what I hope this book may become: The things we save can become the means for our recovery. Likewise, learning and remembering the stories of the people in this book can give us the basis for hope. Their survival through the Nazi era and their ability to rebuild their lives was the result of varying factors, including the indomitable will to persevere, the instinct to navigate the evil system in spite of their powerlessness, the unbreakable bonds between family members, and a lot of luck. In the end, they were survivors. Thus, I offer their stories here as testaments to their ultimate hope, optimism, and inspiration. 

A Brief history
of the Soul Survivors Project

I completed photographic portraits of these survivors from 1993 through 1995 with the support of my former law partner, Sumner Bernstein, and the Holocaust and Human Rights Center of Maine (HHRC). The images became the subject of a traveling exhibition in my home state of Maine and were then put on permanent display at the Maine Jewish Museum in Portland and at the HHRC facility in Augusta. They were accompanied by text written by Professor Stephen Hochstadt, the son of Holocaust survivors and a highly respected scholar of the period. The portraits have been seen by thousands of people over the years, and the museums have repeatedly been asked if a catalogue could be made available. After some false starts, this project moved forward over the past year.

I quickly concluded that I wanted to give the survivors (only three of whom remain alive at the time of this writing) the opportunity to tell their stories in their own words. Thus, the principal authors of this book are the nineteen Holocaust survivors who wound up living in Maine at some point in their lives. Most of these accounts were given in numerous interviews conducted by the Holocaust and Human Rights Center of Maine, the USC Shoah Foundation, and others. Others are taken from books written by the survivors themselves, and, in one instance, from the testimony of a survivor who escaped in utero, was born in a displaced persons camp in Italy, and went on to become a highly esteemed federal judge. In editing these accounts, I have tried to remain true to the originals, making occasional word changes to clarify meaning, to clarify the chronology of important events, and to shorten some very lengthy text. I have sought to include a three-dimensional account, including the survivors’ lives before, during, and after the Holocaust. I have also added an extensive Appendix to give context to various terms, individuals, places, and events. Many of the original testimonies are in the public record and are available online to anyone who wishes to read the full accounts. I urge you to take the time to listen as the survivors give their accounts. A full table of sources is found at the end of the book.

In addition to their connections to Maine, there is one other critical factor that binds all these survivors: They were all very young at the time that Nazism came to dominate Germany and then the rest of Europe. In many instances, they had very full and happy childhoods until Germany’s racial laws came into effect, when the overt antisemitism of their teachers, former playmates, and others led to several years of oppression before the ‘Final Solution’[2] began to be implemented. They are also bound by the fact that they survived, while millions – including their families and friends – did not. I am moved by every aspect of these stories, not least by the survivors’ determination to rebuild their lives here in the United States. I am forever grateful to the survivors for giving us this record, which no amount of denial or historical revisionism can ever erase. We are in their debt.

[1] See Einsatzgruppen in Appendix.
[2] See ‘Final Solution’ in Glossary.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I have been blessed with the help and support of many people over the thirty-plus-year life of the Soul Survivors project. In the mid-1990s, I was early in my days as a portrait photographer when I conceived the Maine Holocaust Survivors series. It was my law partner, Sumner Bernstein, who quickly embraced the project and opened doors for me with the Jewish community that I would never have been able to open on my own. Once I was able to move forward, it was my secretary Diane Lankton who organized the outreach to the survivors, managed the schedule for their portrait sittings, and handled a myriad of related tasks. Sumner died in 2002, but Diane’s commitment continued into the creation of this book, for which she has served as a reader and copy editor. Sharon Nichols, then Executive Director of the Holocaust and Human Rights Center of Maine, was instrumental in moving the portrait project from conception to execution. It was Sharon who allowed us to identify the survivors and who made the initial contact with them, encouraging them to participate. Additionally, Dorothy ‘DeeDee’ Schwartz, Director of the Maine Humanities Council, embraced the project, assuring its wide audience beginning with an exhibition and series of lectures at the Portland Public Library in 1998.

In 2018 we began moving forward with the idea of creating a book based upon the portrait images I had made in the 1990s, and which were on permanent display at the Maine Jewish Museum in Portland, and the Holocaust and Human Rights Center of Maine (HHRC). David Greenham, the HHRC’s Associate Director, and Gary Barron, then Director of the Maine Jewish Museum, were partners as we moved forward to explore options. COVID and other issues intervened. The project went on hold until the fall of 2022, when I met a fellow Maine photographer, Skip Kline, who stepped forward with generous funding for the creation and printing of this book. Skip’s deep concern about the rise of antisemitism and his commitment to supporting photographic artists have found him quietly supporting other important publications aimed at assuring that the truthful record of the Holocaust is preserved.

Professor and Holocaust scholar Steve Hochstadt played a critical role in the presentation of the Soul Survivors images displayed at exhibitions throughout Maine, including at the Portland Public Library, the State House in Augusta, and other venues. Steve created the moving text that accompanies the photographs at the Maine Jewish Museum in Portland. [https://mainejewishmuseum.org/historical-exhibitions/soul-survivors/]  

Tam Huynh, Executive Director of the Holocaust and Human Rights Center of Maine, has been a wonderful collaborator as we have moved forward to completion and publication of this book. The HHRC has been instrumental at every turn in bringing this project to fruition. Additionally, my friends Jody Sataloff (founding President of the Maine Jewish Museum in Portland), and the Museum’s founding Executive Director, Rabbi Gary Berenson, have provided invaluable support for this project through the years, as has Steve Brinn, the current president of the Museum’s Board of Directors. The assistance and support of Dawn LaRochelle, current Executive Director of the Maine Jewish Museum, has been most helpful in the planning and execution of this book project.

Caitlin Lampman, Reference and Outreach Archivist at the Edmund S. Muskie Archives and Special Collections Library at Bates College in Lewiston, Maine, was extremely helpful in assisting me in navigating the personal papers of Gerda Haas, Jutka Isaacson, and Rose Magyar that are preserved there.

I am very grateful to several of my close friends who have been invaluable guides to the worlds of publication. These include Roger Conover, a writer, editor, curator, and founding editor of the art and architecture publishing program at MIT Press, who has been generous with his advice. Also, my friend Dr. Aaron Rosen has been an enthusiastic supporter of the book and has shared countless suggestions based upon his own extensive publications on contemporary issues of religion and art.

I have been blessed to have several highly qualified readers who have spent considerable time reviewing the text and helping to assure its historical accuracy, as well as that of the Appendix. My friend, Bowdoin College Professor of German Emeritus Steve Cerf (the son of a Holocaust survivor), has taught Holocaust studies for decades and provided me with very helpful suggestions and corrections. Robert Bernheim, a former student of Steve Cerf and now an Assistant Professor of History at the University of Maine at Augusta, has been an invaluable aid in assuring the accuracy of many matters, including the Appendix, which serves as the historical backbone for the testimonies of the survivors. His own research centers on the Nazi Holocaust and the Second World War in Europe. Additional readers have included Leslie Applebaum, a wonderful teacher in the public school system of Portland, Maine, who has taught Holocaust and other human rights studies in the school system for years, and who provided me with helpful insights aimed at focusing the text as a resource for other teachers. I also incorporated important additional input from readers on the educational team at the Holocaust and Human Right Center of Maine, including Erica Nadelhaft and Piper Dumont.

My friend, art educator and author Dr. George Smith, has been a source of sound advice, both on this book and many other matters through the years. It was through George that I met Kieran O’Hare, who is now a key editor of the book. Kieran’s task has been challenging, editing excerpts from 40-year-old interviews to assure their readability, while assuring that the language remains true yet concise. His deep understanding of the history of this period was an unexpected blessing, allowing him great sensitivity to the nuance of the testimonies of the survivors.

I am very fortunate to have Stephen Stinehour as the book’s designer. Stephen continues the legacy of Stinehour Editions and has designed countless books and museum catalogues. He is busy these days working with the Maurice Sendak Foundation on the reissue of many of Sendak’s books.

Sara Lennon has been instrumental in getting the book online.  My skills in web design with Squarespace are limited.  Sara jumped into the project and quickly took it over the hurdles to complete the webpage version.

Of all the assistance I have had in creating this book, none has been more meaningful than that of the three living survivors, Tamara Feinberg, Charles Rotmil, and Walter Ziffer. All three have become my friends, and our interactions have given me the highest level of inspiration to see this project through. They are living examples of what it means to be a survivor – to reconstitute their lives after the most horrific experiences and terrible personal loss of family members. I am moved, both by their resilience, and also by their sadness, as they look upon a world that seems bent upon forgetting the lessons learned from the period 1930 to 1945.

And lastly, my thanks to my wife, Deede, my supporter, editor, and reader of Soul Survivors for thirty years, without whom none of this would have come about.

 Jack Montgomery
Freeport, Maine
May 2024