The Takeaway Men

by Meryl Ain

  Aron then said, “So it was, Bronka and Johanna, that only because of your mother, Sarah and I survived. But right after the war, she did not know we were still alive, and I had no idea where she was. Then we found each other again in Kielce.”

  The anger was gone from Papa’s voice. He spoke his daughters’ names softly. Was that actually affection Bronka heard? But she was still confused and afraid to speak. She had been ordered not to question, but the churning questions in her mind were giving her a headache. Papa had another wife? What happened to her? She dared not ask—yet. But as the tension mounted in her body, she knew that she would ask the question if the answer was not revealed. She had no choice but to wait and see if he would tell the entire truth.

  “I wanted to go back to Kielce to see if any of my family members were alive,” he continued, “and also to see what happened to our home and property.

  “When I returned, the wife of my father’s colleague, who was supposed to have safeguarded our belongings, looked me in the eye when I knocked on her door and said simply, ‘You are still alive; I thought your whole family was dead.’ She claimed she had no knowledge of our things. I could hear disappointment and annoyance in her voice.

  “I found also that our beautiful stone house, the scene of so many childhood memories and which had housed my father’s medical practice, was now a police station. During the war, it had served as a hotel for German officers.

  “After these heartbreaking disappointments, we made our way to 7 Planty Street, where the Jewish Committee was located. At that point, we had no home and no family. And Sarah was pregnant. We had no choice but to stay there until we were sent somewhere else, such as Palestine.

  “There was only one bright light in this situation. You can imagine how surprised and pleased I was to find out that your mother was working there. Her heroic rescue of Jewish children had gained her the respect of the Jewish community, and she was now working to help survivors of the Shoah come back to life after the war.”

  Suddenly, Faye interrupted. “I smell smoke!”

  Izzy jumped up and ran into the kitchen. Smoke was pouring from the oven. He immediately turned the oven off and pulled out the meatloaf and potatoes, which were black and hard and burned to a crisp.

  “Stick a fork in it,” Faye called from the living room, dismayed that her special meatloaf recipe—with vegetarian vegetable soup and a hard-boiled egg in the middle, that she had taught Judy to make—was now ruined.

  “It’s hard as a rock; even a dog wouldn’t eat it.”

  “No one is hungry,” said JoJo. “Please, Papa, finish the story.”

  “Perhaps we should finish the story another day,” he said.

  “How can it be any worse than what you’ve already told us?”

  “Sometimes things get worse before they get better,” Judy jumped in. “It’s Papa’s story to tell. It’s up to him. I think it’s time for you to know the truth.”

  She turned to her husband. “Aron?”

  Aron’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t. It is just too painful.” He began to cry.

  “Then let me tell it,” Judy said, sitting up straight and looking right at her daughters with laser-sharp focus. She displayed a strength the girls had never seen in their mother before. She spoke from her heart, not looking for approval from Aron—or even Faye.

  “The time is long past due for the girls to know. In understanding, there is forgiveness. But first, Bronka and Johanna, you must go over to your father and give him a big hug. He is the only father you have, and he needs a hug.”

  The telling of the story had dissipated the girls’ anger. Their heads were spinning with all the new information they had yet to fully absorb. They dutifully walked the few steps from the piano bench to their sobbing, newly vulnerable father, who stood up to receive them. Together, they embraced him, and soon Judy walked over and put her arms around the girls in a group hug.

  After a few moments, the girls went back to the piano bench and Judy sat down next to Aron.

  “On July first, 1946 an eight-year-old boy from Kielce named Henryk Blaszczyk went missing,” Judy began. “When he returned home two days later, he told his parents he had been kidnapped. This was a lie. He had actually hitchhiked to his former neighborhood because he wanted to get cherries that were grown by one of the neighbors there. When he came back, his father, who was very drunk, took him to the police station to complain. On their way, the child made up a story about a Jewish man in a green cap who he said had kidnapped him. He said the man had held him in the basement of 7 Planty Street, where the Jewish Committee was housed, where I worked, and where one hundred eighty refugees were living.

  “By the next morning, vicious rumors started spreading among the Poles. They said Jews were kidnapping Christian children for ritual sacrifice and were holding them in the basement of 7 Planty. A violent mob assembled to get revenge against the Jews. These were out-and-out lies; the building did not even have a basement. The Jews who lived there were sick, tired, downtrodden refugees; almost all of their lantzmen had been murdered by the Nazis. They were waiting there to start new lives.

  “The police and militia were called in, supposedly to keep the peace. But instead of calming things down, they began shooting and dragging Jews from the building into the courtyard, where the local Poles viciously attacked them. They even threw some Jews from the second floor. It was pure chaos. Police, soldiers, and ordinary citizens were attacking Jews with stones and clubs and pipes. Others were taking aim with guns. Everything was drenched in blood. The violence lasted for hours.”

  Judy closed her eyes for a moment, covered her mouth with her hands, and took a deep breath. She braced herself for the worst part.

  “I am ashamed to say that my father was among the Polish policemen that day,” Judy continued. “He may have been drunk, but that is no excuse for what happened. Forty-two Jews were killed, and more than forty were injured, including a mother and a newborn baby.”

  Judy began to cry again.

  “And a woman who was six months pregnant was murdered,” she continued. “That woman was Sarah, Papa’s first wife. And that is how Papa lost his wife and his unborn child in the Kielce pogrom, which took place more than a year after the war was over.

  “I watched the scene from the window where I was holed up with twenty Jews, where I had tried to barricade the door. I saw that Papa was hysterically crying and bent over his wife. I ran outside to him, and I could see she was dead, so I pulled him away. I brought him back into the building for shelter until the massacre was over. The two of us went to the morgue to identify Sarah, and we remained in Kielce for the burial and shiva of the forty-two Jews.

  “After the Kielce pogrom, we were both done with Poland. Papa realized that Poland was no place for Jews. He had survived the war but lost his entire family. He thought he was about to start a new family and a new life, but that too was lost. He did not want to go on.

  “I knew in my heart that Kielce was no place for decent human beings. It wasn’t just the instigators that troubled me; there are always troublemakers. I was not only appalled by the mob that participated, but also by those who stood idly by and watched as passive bystanders. I am deeply ashamed that my father—my own flesh and blood—was an anti-Semite. I will take that shame to my grave. After I witnessed the Kielce pogrom, I could no longer stay in Poland. I had to renounce my country and my family. And I had to save Papa. There was no other choice for me.

  “I told Papa that we would leave Kielce together and I would forsake my country, my family, and my religion. I wanted to become a Jew. I spoke the words of Ruth in the Bible: ‘. . . for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.’

  “In Germany, the Allies had set up displaced persons camps for the survivors. I told Papa I would go with him there. But my friends in the Jewish Committee told me I could not go to a Jewish DP camp as a Christian. I said, ‘There must
be a way.’ And there was a way. There is always a way. My friends said to me, ‘You helped so many Jews during the war and saved so many lives, now it is our chance to help you.’”

  “They dyed my blond hair dark brown, and they gave me identification papers with the alias of Judyta Abraham. Papa and I boarded a train to Warteplatz, Germany. We vowed to put Poland behind us. I asked him many questions about Judaism, and he answered them patiently. He taught me the Shema and other prayers.

  “When we arrived at the camp, I was accepted as a Jew. Papa and I got married by a rabbi in a group ceremony with six other couples under a chuppah. And a year later, you beautiful twins were born.

  “You must believe me that this was the happiest day of our lives. It was also happy for all of the people in the camp. It was a double mitzvah—a sign from God that Jewish life would go on with the birth of two little girls who would one day become Jewish mothers. It was a sign that Hitler had been defeated. It signified the resilience of the Jewish people. I know you wish that Papa would be more affectionate with you, but maybe now you understand what he has been through. Why he does not want to speak of it. We love you more than words can ever say.”

  The truth—the messy, difficult, complicated truth—was now out in the open. In the moment, it cleared the air. There were tears and apologies and hugs and kisses on all sides. For the first time in their lives, the twins had a window into the trauma and the pain that both of their parents had endured.

  As Judy made peanut butter sandwiches for the drained and exhausted family, no one said a word. Everyone suddenly realized that they were hungry and downed their sandwiches in a few minutes. Then the girls went upstairs, leaving the adults alone.

  “I think that went pretty well,” said Faye.

  “I hope so,” said Judy. “I feel like a weight has been lifted from me.”

  “But you know down the road there will be more questions,” Aron said. “Bronka will want to get to the bottom of every single thing.”

  “Let’s worry about that when the time comes,” Judy said. “It might not happen for a long time.”

  “Or ever,” added Izzy.

  “What about the Jewish identity issue?” Aron asked.

  “It’s not an issue for me,” Izzy said.

  “Nor me either,” said Faye. “Judy is the best Jew I know.”

  “Okay, I guess if it ever becomes an issue, I can speak to the rabbi,” Aron said.

  But Judy was thinking about other issues. In telling their story to her daughters, she had revealed secrets, lies, and cover-ups, not to mention the anti-Semitism of their biological grandfather. She had made it seem like the choices she made at the time were the right thing (the only thing) to do—to renounce your family, your religion, your country. Surely, this was a clear case of right and wrong, she told herself. What choice did she have?

  But how would Bronka and Johanna analyze and internalize their parents’ story, now that it was out in the open? How would it affect them as they grew up? That was a concern for another day.

  For tonight, despite her weariness, she knew for sure that she was strong and resilient. She felt cleansed by the truth, awash in forgiveness and family harmony, alight with tranquility and reconciliation.

  GLOSSARY

  Balabosta – Efficient Jewish homemaker.

  Bashert – Destiny. It is often used to refer to one’s divinely preordained spouse or soulmate.

  Bench – To recite blessings.

  Bissel – A little.

  Challah – Ceremonial braided egg bread used on the Sabbath and Jewish holidays.

  Chuppah – Marriage Canopy

  Conservadox – A synagogue that is affiliated with the Conservative movement, but leans toward more traditional Orthodox practices.

  Dayenu – Traditional Passover hymn, literally meaning: “It would have been enough.”

  Gay avek – “Go away.”

  Gottenyu – “Oh, God!”

  Gezuntah – Big, large.

  Gut Shabbos – “Good Sabbath.”

  Haftorah – A selection from one of the books of the Prophets read after the Torah reading on the Sabbath and holiday mornings.

  Mourner’s Kaddish – Prayer recited by mourners.

  Kashrus – The Jewish dietary laws and the rules of keeping kosher.

  Kavannah –Intention.

  Knesset – Israeli Parliament.

  Lashon hora – Gossip.

  Machar – Important person, big shot.

  Machberes – Notebook.

  Mach Schnell – “Hurry up!”

  Mazel Tov – “Good luck!”

  Mechitza – Partition in an Orthodox synagogue to separate men and women during prayer.

  Meshuggene – Crazy, mad, insane person.

  Mikveh – Ritual bath, representing spiritual cleansing.

  Minyan – Quorum of a group of at least ten Jews required for a prayer service.

  Modeh Ani – The first words of a prayer that observant Jews recite daily upon waking.

  Morah – Teacher.

  Oneg Shabbos – Literally, “Joy of the Sabbath.” It usually refers to the refreshments following Friday night services.

  Oy vey iz mir – “Woe is me!”

  Pareve – Neutral food that is neither meat nor dairy.

  Rachmonos – Compassion, mercy, pity.

  Shechechiyanu – Prayer of thanksgiving.

  Shalom Bayis – Peace in the home.

  Sheket b’vakasha – “Quiet, please.”

  Shema – Seminal Hebrew prayer that acknowledges the oneness of God.

  Shiksa – Non-Jewish woman.

  Shiva – Seven-day mourning period.

  Shoin genug – “That’s enough!”

  Shul – Synagogue.

  Siman Tov u Mazel Tov – Sung on happy occasions, the literal meaning is “Good Sign and Good Luck!”

  Smicha – Rabbinical ordination.

  Sukkah – A temporary shelter, used for meals during the Jewish festival of Sukkot.

  Tachlis – The heart of the matter.

  Tallis – Prayer shawl.

  Tefillin – Cubic black leather boxes containing Torah texts on parchment that observant Jews wear on their head and their arm during weekday morning prayers.

  Treyfe – Non-kosher food.

  Undzer Hofenung – Our Hope.

  Vaz is das?– “What is this?”

  Warteplatz – Waiting place.

  Yad VaShem – The World Holocaust Remembrance Center in Israel.

  Yahrtzeit – Anniversary of the day of death of a loved one.

  Yenta – Busybody.

  Yichus – Pedigree, ancestry, family background.

  Yizkor – Prayer Service in Commemoration of the Dead.

  Yom HaShoah – Holocaust Remembrance Day in Israel.

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  THE CHARACTERS AND EVENTS OF The Takeaway Men are all figments of my imagination. But the settings of the story are real.

  Warteplatz is a name I chose for the Jewish Displaced Persons camp in which the twins were born. It means “waiting place” in German. Many survivors of the Holocaust lived in DP camps after the war because they were unwilling or unable to return to their home countries—or were unwelcome by the non-Jews who had moved into their homes and those who had been their neighbors. The bulk of the Jewish survivors later immigrated to the US or Israel.

  The term Holocaust did not gain traction until well after the years covered in this book. Instead, Jews often used the Hebrew word Shoah when referring to the murder of European Jews by the Nazis and their collaborators. It means destruction and is a word that had been in use since the Middle Ages.

  I liberally used Yiddish and Hebrew words to give flavor to the dialogue. In the ’50s and ’60s, Jews of European background used the Ashkenazic pronunciation of Hebrew. Later, the Sephardic pronunciation, popularized in Israel, became standard. For example, the Lubinskis and their peers would say “Shabbos,” while today the common usage is “
Shabbat.”

  The story of the Kielce pogrom is true. More than a year after the war ended in Europe, forty-two Jews were killed and forty others injured by an angry mob of Polish civilians and policemen. The casualties included a mother and a newborn baby and a pregnant woman.

  In the decade following the end of WWII, many survivors did not speak about their experiences. Nor was it mentioned in the curriculum of public schools—and not in Hebrew Schools, either. Thus, the scenes in Deborah Cohen’s Hebrew School class, as well as the aftermath of her actions, are invented.

  The Bellerose/Floral Park area of Northeast Queens developed in the postwar era. The names of churches, synagogues, and schools are made up. Some of the stores on Union Turnpike actually existed, such as May’s, Dan’s Supreme, and Barry’s Stationery Store, while others were renamed.

  In the 1950s, American foreign policy was focused on the communist threat and the Cold War with the Soviet Union, not with capturing Nazis. Those Nazis who slipped into the United States were not exposed until decades later, if ever. The story of Rudolf Schmidt is totally imaginary.

  Senator Joseph McCarthy conducted hearings to expose communist infiltration. People lost their jobs for having joined the Communist party when they were in college, others because they were falsely accused. The hysteria reached a fever pitch with the arrest and trial of Ethel and Julius Rosenberg. It is true that David Greenglass testified against his sister, Ethel Rosenberg, and her husband. The story of Lenore and Al and their influence on the Rosenberg case is entirely fictional.

  The Rosenbergs were the only Americans to be executed as spies during peacetime. Although the judge and lawyers were Jewish, many Jews viewed their treatment as a manifestation of anti-Semitism. The extent of Ethel’s role in her husband’s spying activity remains in dispute. Years later, Greenglass admitted that he lied about her involvement to save himself and his wife, Ruth.