Only the original voice of a survivor can truly relay the complexity of personal experience during the Holocaust. But not
all survivors can tell their story, even to their children. Simon
Sterlings gripping testimony is compelled by his daughters drive
to bring the details to life. Under her silent, but loving attentiveness Simon tells his story of brutality, bravery and uncommon
courage. Family letters and photographs expand these uncovered
memories to create a unique document not only of survival,
but of regeneration. Josey G. Fisher, Director, Gratz College
Holocaust Oral History Archive
light in darkness
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Light In Darkness
A Survivors Story
By
Simon Sterling
as told to
Phyllis Sterling Jacobs
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Light In Darkness
talmud
When Adam saw for the first time the sun go down, and an ever
deepening gloom enfold creation, his mind was filled with terror.
God then took pity on him, and endowed him with the divine
intuition to take two stones the name of one was Darkness and
the name of the other Shadow of Death and rub them against
each other, and so discover fire. Thereupon Adam exclaimed with
grateful joy: Blessed be the Creator of Light.
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CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
A Daughters Story
ii
Prologue
3. No Questions Asked
4. In Antons Barn
15
19
6. Digging In
23
31
37
45
49
55
61
67
73
85
91
99
Epilogue
104
106
A Daughters Epilogue
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Acknowledgments
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A Daughters Story
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hear where he had left off. He spoke with little hesitation as if he had
been preparing for years in his head to finally tell his story.
At the time I was relieved that he spoke without prompting, and I
was reluctant to probe with questions I feared might have been too
painful for him to answer and for me to ask. Despite the fact that
we were doing this taping, as we sat facing each other, I knew we
were still intent upon protecting each other from the deepest pain. To
my great regret, I never asked my father, during the taping or after, to
tell me more than he offered.
Today our conversation would be different: I would ask him to tell
me about our family, especially my brother. I would cry with him and
hope that our shared grief would bring him some comfort. I would
ask him to try to explain how he maintained his integrity, faith and
optimism. I would tell him how grateful I am to him for leaving me
with this incredible account.
While visiting my cousins in Israel, I was fortunate to discover a
stack of old letters, which were written by my mother, father and
Uncle Isak to my Aunt Nechama, my fathers sister, who had
immigrated to Israel before the war. These letters were written in
Yiddish from 1945 through 1949 immediately after the war while my
parents were waiting to immigrate to the United States. I finally had
in my hands a real piece of the puzzle. Some of those letters are
included in this book.
My fathers story is an account of maintaining ones humanity in a
world gone mad. It is a chronicle of love, commitment, courage, faith,
hope and mindfulness in the midst of incredible losses and trauma. It
is also an immigrants story of making a place for himself in an
optimistic and much-appreciated America, while secretly bearing the
nightmares of a beautiful world ripped apart.
To the reader, it is my wish that as the layers of this book unfold
you will come away from it changed with a deeper understanding of
our potential for strength, hope and courage, and a greater
appreciation of how we nourish these gifts in each other.
Phyllis Sterling Jacobs
February, 2005
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xii
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Prologue
I dont want to tell you this. I dont want to make you feel bad.
Its not your fault. Thank God Im all right, you understand. Only its
so hard, its so hard to explain. Its unbelievable to get through. You
have a sentence for death, if only they catch you. And you run, and
every place where you are going there are enemies and enemies and
enemies, you understand? You hide from so many enemies.
Lets say somebody here in the United States is running away
from jail. He walks in the street. Is it your business? He walks.
Is it my business? Its nobodys business. Even if somebody knew
something bad about him, he might say to himself, Its not my
business. But there in Poland, if you walked out, any little child you
saw was your enemy. Everyone was your enemy. How can you hide
from so many enemies?
Its very hard to explain this to people here. They cannot
understand. And a lot of times I had in my mind, maybe its me
maybe I cannot explain to them. Then I figured, no, Im explaining
it plain. It doesnt go in their minds, because people here in the
United States, in this democratic country, cannot understand. Its
unbelievable. So how much you should tell them? I dont know.
But Im going to tell you this.
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Simon, his wife Sophie (on right), and Sophies sister Pepe Reiss in Szczurowice,
Poland, 1932.
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gave orders that every Jew had to wear a 10-centimeter armband with
the Star of David. Anyone caught without a band would be shot on
the spot.
The SS picked one Jew, a man named Mechele, to carry out their
orders. You are the Judenrat (the Jewish council). We will give you
orders and you have to fill them out. If you dont do it, youll be shot
with your wife and two children in front of the Jewish people.
The Germans ordered Mechele to go to the Jewish people and
collect all the jewelry they had. All their furs should be given over,
also. The people who had rings gave in their rings, and everyone gave
in their furs if they had them. These things were collected and packed
up. Where they were sent, no one knows. Mechele had a hard time.
When he came to someone, he cried with them because he couldnt
help himself. He was in a very bad situation.
When it got colder, the Germans took away all our feather
blankets. This went on throughout the winter. The men had to go out
every day to work, and the Germans beat them all the time.
Then the Germans started what they called actions. Nobody
really knew what was going on. Orders came that all Jews should be
on the street at a certain place. Some hid. Some ran back to their
houses and were dragged out; they were placed on wagons, which
went to the railroad station. The Germans loaded them up and took
them away to Belzec, an extermination camp. We never saw them
again.
When they took away some people, they left others. They didnt
touch them because they couldnt catch them all at one time, so they
waited for another time. They divided it up for a few times.
Whenever I heard or saw something, like cars coming into town, I
could never tell who it was. Maybe it was the SS, so I ran away. I
took my wife, Sophie, and my 6-year-old son, and I ran. We ran. We
slept overnight in a field. In the daytime I sent a Christian friend of
mine to look around. If he found out that it was quiet, we would
return. This happened many, many times. We slept in the woods, in
the fields, and sometimes in a barn that belonged to Anton
Lukasiewicz, a Christian farmer I knew. My wife always listened to
me. She believed in me. We had known each other since we were
about 13.
2
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