Holocaust Remembrance Program, Part Two
Apr. 10th, 2021 11:23 pmTo continue with the Federal Inter-Agency Holocaust Remembrance Program on Wednesday, April 7, we heard from Max Glauben; as I mentioned before, some young people watching and listening were able to ask questions, which the presenter, Esther Safran Foer, posed to Mr. Glauben.
Max Glauben was born in Warsaw, Poland, in 1928. His father published a newspaper, and he (in later life) was able to view a copy of the Yiddishe Tagblatte for September 28, 1938, in a museum, describing Herr Hitler’s meeting with Mr. Chamberlain. He had a brother, two years younger than himself. On September 1, 1939, Nazi Germany invaded Poland, and, what is not as remembered (Mr. Glauben said), the Soviet Union then invaded Eastern Poland, in accordance with the Hitler-Stalin Pact.
The Glaubens had an apartment in the area that became Warsaw’s Jewish ghetto, which made them a little better off than other Jews, since they has their furniture and such; Jews outside the ghetto had to move there with what they could carry. The ghetto was about one square mile in area, and soon suffered a typhoid epidemic. The Germans created a Jewish Council, and there were 2000 Jewish policemen. There were half a million people in the ghetto, with 2400 apartments.
In 1943, with the battle of Stalingrad, the Final Solution began, and Jews were sent to Treblinka, Majdanek, and other camps.
Max Glauben was in five different camps. His mother and brother were murdered early. His father grabbed him and took him along to a section of the camp where the prisoners were for labor, not instant death; they made parts for Messerschmidt.
Two sisters of his father found Max in Dallas, forty-two years later.
There people were missing from a roll call, so the Germans murdered thirty hostages, one of them Max’s father. Only the victims’ shoes were left, and his father’s shoes were there.
There was a question from Connor, age 14: “Was there ever a time when you wanted to give up?” Mr. Glauben replied with the Jewish teaching that if someone saves one life, it is as if he saved the whole world, and said, “I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.” He spoke of thinking of the souls of his parents watching, and of HaShem.
There was a question from Ben, age 15. “Some survivors talk, and others are not able to. What makes you willing to speak?” Mr. Glauben expressed the idea that babies are born robots, acting according to their programming. Through education, you can gain the wisdom to program yourself, and you can make choices. Some survivors say it was so bad, we can’t even speak of it. But we have a duty to educate.
Glauben has gone back fourteen times, and taught. There is a building in the camp containing seven tons of human ashes, including his family.
You can blame the bystanders, who could have done something, and didn’t.
He didn’t talk to his own kids about the Holocaust until they were old enough to understand.
He was liberated. Now, when his family goes to a restaurant, he has to make reservations for twenty-seven people, counting his wife, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, their spouses, and so on.
A last point: Esther Safran Foer has a book out, I Want You to Know We’re Still Here.
Max Glauben was born in Warsaw, Poland, in 1928. His father published a newspaper, and he (in later life) was able to view a copy of the Yiddishe Tagblatte for September 28, 1938, in a museum, describing Herr Hitler’s meeting with Mr. Chamberlain. He had a brother, two years younger than himself. On September 1, 1939, Nazi Germany invaded Poland, and, what is not as remembered (Mr. Glauben said), the Soviet Union then invaded Eastern Poland, in accordance with the Hitler-Stalin Pact.
The Glaubens had an apartment in the area that became Warsaw’s Jewish ghetto, which made them a little better off than other Jews, since they has their furniture and such; Jews outside the ghetto had to move there with what they could carry. The ghetto was about one square mile in area, and soon suffered a typhoid epidemic. The Germans created a Jewish Council, and there were 2000 Jewish policemen. There were half a million people in the ghetto, with 2400 apartments.
In 1943, with the battle of Stalingrad, the Final Solution began, and Jews were sent to Treblinka, Majdanek, and other camps.
Max Glauben was in five different camps. His mother and brother were murdered early. His father grabbed him and took him along to a section of the camp where the prisoners were for labor, not instant death; they made parts for Messerschmidt.
Two sisters of his father found Max in Dallas, forty-two years later.
There people were missing from a roll call, so the Germans murdered thirty hostages, one of them Max’s father. Only the victims’ shoes were left, and his father’s shoes were there.
There was a question from Connor, age 14: “Was there ever a time when you wanted to give up?” Mr. Glauben replied with the Jewish teaching that if someone saves one life, it is as if he saved the whole world, and said, “I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.” He spoke of thinking of the souls of his parents watching, and of HaShem.
There was a question from Ben, age 15. “Some survivors talk, and others are not able to. What makes you willing to speak?” Mr. Glauben expressed the idea that babies are born robots, acting according to their programming. Through education, you can gain the wisdom to program yourself, and you can make choices. Some survivors say it was so bad, we can’t even speak of it. But we have a duty to educate.
Glauben has gone back fourteen times, and taught. There is a building in the camp containing seven tons of human ashes, including his family.
You can blame the bystanders, who could have done something, and didn’t.
He didn’t talk to his own kids about the Holocaust until they were old enough to understand.
He was liberated. Now, when his family goes to a restaurant, he has to make reservations for twenty-seven people, counting his wife, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, their spouses, and so on.
A last point: Esther Safran Foer has a book out, I Want You to Know We’re Still Here.