He (Raphael) ["my father"] had two younger sisters, Pola and Fanny, both gifted pianists....
Fanny was quite a bit younger (born in 1900) than my father (born in 1884 or so[1]). She married a man called Juscio Uryson and they did not have any children. She was my favorite aunt as she was only 20 years older than me although I did not know her all that well either. While I was a child she still lived in Lodz - I was there twice - when I was about 7 years old and then again when I was 15 or 16. During the war they were in the Warsaw ghetto - her father died in the ghetto of pneumonia - she helped nurse him. From the ghetto both she and her husband were taken to a concentration camp - perhaps Auschwitz and neither survived.
...
Mom separately wrote once: Fania and Juscio worked in a factory; one day they were herded up and deported, Aunt Rosa, my mother's sister, saw them leave; the assumption is they were sent to and died in Auschwitz.
I know that our family fled from Poland to Moscow in 1915. I think Fanya was not married yet. A gifted pianist, she studied at the Moscow conservatory with one of the best professors.
...
I don’t remember when exactly grandfather Herman and his family returned to Poland[2]. But I know that Fanya was crying bitterly, she didn’t want to leave Moscow and the Conservatory. I often think that if she had stayed she would have escaped the torture of the ghetto and the Auschwitz. But she could also end up in Gulag, as many others. Who knows… I remember that we got the chance to send food to Poland, to the ghetto, when Stalin and Hitler were good friends yet, in 1940-1941.
My dear, beloved Madziuchna!
We were very happy with your card. You haven't written to us lately, and although we longed for your letters, each of us understood the reason for your silence. We had cards from Rafał from Amsterdam,[4] he wrote that he was going to England and since then we have no news from him, if not for your card, we would be very anxious about him. So what's up? It's really about time you get down to something and be together. I consider it lucky that you have a sister whom you can survive this period of searching and wandering. As for Raphael, I am only glad that he is a great optimist, does not lose his head and believes in his strength - it is a great gift, may God help him! There is little new to us. The mood at home is quite depressed, Józio[5] works late at night, he looks terrible - his father hasn't earned anything at all lately, somehow all his business has been cut off right away, which is very depressing for him. I walk all day with a pencil in my hand and "count", unfortunately only my bad mood is the result. Maybe the situation will change for the better, otherwise it will have to be remedied somehow (change the flat, dismiss the girls). Honestly, I can tell you that I am very lonely in this respect, I have absolutely no man whom I could honestly consult. Józio is constantly passionate, my father has a strange view of these things (he believes that one cannot live more modestly, with which I personally do not agree at all) and I cannot talk about it with strangers or even with my family, because I always for them to point out that I live beyond their means, it is difficult "Сытый голодного не понимает."[6] a trusted person, and you, Madziuchna, I think you are. And now I'm very interested in Jani. Write a little more about her, what is her mood in, does she have company or does she have "someone"? I am reading your card now, you write that you want to work and help Raf. - you see, this is the most important thing (I think about myself at the moment) God, with what envy I look at women who knew how to become independent, I think about it a lot, I also have some plans, but I must admit that in today's situation it is very difficult. If you would come to us, you would be a very welcome guest with us, I know, after all, that I like you, and this is the most important thing in this case. As for the lessons, languages are taught here quite a lot, but it is a matter of luck and it is difficult to predict anything in advance. I have already written to you about everything. Now I expect letters from you. I kiss you strongly, strongly your
Fani
Why is Raf. not writing ???
Łódź, August 12, 1939
My dearest Madziuchna! I received your letter—I’ve read it countless times, for two reasons: *primo*, I admired your wisdom regarding life, and *secundo*, your sincerity, for which I am immensely grateful. One feels so lonely at times that it is comforting to know someone close understands you; by being so open, you proved that you trust me—that you know I love you and am your friend. Although you didn’t tell me anything new, it pained me to hear how much you’ve suffered because of R. Personally, I am very sensitive to such things, so I know that feeling well—and it is not a pleasant one. But I must tell you that I have the impression (and I write this not without reason) that this "romance" has somewhat soured. R is very depressed; in every letter—though lately it’s just been a postcard—he notes how much he suffers from being apart from his family and says he would be happy (he actually uses that word) to be with you again. After all, he doesn’t *have* to write things like that. So, your words are proving true once more: all those flirtations are fleeting, while one’s true haven and friend is one’s wife—it just takes a great deal of strength and nerves to weather this period. Human suffering truly knows no bounds; as if the hard struggle for a livelihood weren't enough, we are also burdened with these kinds of worries—but *c’est la vie*! I cannot forget the conversation I had with R right after he turned down the job in Sosnowiec. R was quite agitated, as many people thought he was acting wrongly; he had said, "Everything could have worked out so simply, but I don't want a simple life at all—I want a complicated one"—and well, he certainly got a complicated one! And what will come of it all? R doesn't want to come back here now, and perhaps he’s right, because life here is very hard. But then again, there are no limits to how bad things can get. I have an acquaintance who was expelled from Vienna[9]; she wanted to get to Palestine—which wasn't easy—and finally managed to board a ship. On the first night, there was a furious storm, and on the second, the ship burned completely, so the passengers—her included—barely managed to reach the shore in lifeboats. The heat was terrible, so everyone was in shorts, with no belongings, no food, and no money. They are currently on the island of Rhodes, starving and writing desperate letters; I read one such letter and felt like we were in paradise—after all, we have a roof over our heads (even if the rent is unpaid), we have food to eat and clothes to wear, and we are together. If one were to always look down, perhaps one would be happy; unfortunately, that is only a fleeting comfort.
And now, about me. Józio sensed my agitation in my letters (I have no idea what was going on with me back then) and insisted I come visit him for the last few days of his leave, threatening to return home early if I didn't. I didn't really have the money for it, but I managed somehow and went to see him for four days. The weather was beautiful and the company very pleasant; Józio was exceptionally warm towards me, so all that nonsense quickly vanished from my mind. I felt so carefree, so good—I now have the impression that those four days were *the* summer one waits for all year, and the rest counts for nothing. Among others, I met Kal Ist. and her son there; she was very interested in you, and I gave her your address because she wants to write to you. By the way, Kele looks very unwell and complained a great deal; they have many worries because their business has gone bust.
I received your letter on the day I left, which is why I am only writing now. Józio has recovered well and got some rest. I, meanwhile, have returned to the bills and daily troubles. As I’ve already written to you, Father affects me very badly; the fact that he isn’t earning money is simply killing him (I assure you, he hasn’t heard a single word of reproach from us—what good would that do?). He does nothing but groan and envy people who are dying; these words drive me to fury because I feel that Father... well, he isn’t actually doing that badly yet. Still, I’ve calmed down a bit and feel somewhat lighter—and that’s a good thing!
Do write, Madziuchna! Kisses, lots of love,
Fania
Give Janka a kiss for me.
Original
Łódź dnia 12/VIII 1939r.
Kochana moja Madziuchno! List Twój otrzymałam – czytałam go niezliczoną ilość razy, a to z dwóch względów: primo, podziwiałam Twoją mądrość życiową, secundo Twoją szczerość, za którą jestem Ci niezmiernie wdzięczna. Człowiek jest coś taki samotny, że przyjemnie jest czuć, ze jest ktoś blisko, kto cię rozumie, swoją szczerością zaś dowiodłaś, ze wierzysz mi, że Cię kocham i jestem Ci przyjacielem. Chociaż nic nowego mi nie powiedziałaś, bolało mnie jednak, że przez R tyle żeś się nacierpiała. Ja osobiście jestem bardzo wrażliwa na takie coś i dlatego dobrze to uczucie znam, nie należy ono do przyjemnych. Ale muszę Ci powiedzieć, że mam wrażenie (ja to piszę nie bez podstaw) że ta sympatia coś się „zepsuła”. R jest bardzo przygnębiony i w każdym liście (dopiero była karta) zaznacza, że bardzo cierpi z powodu rozłąki z rodziną i byłby szczęśliwy (właśnie używa tego wyrazu) gdyby już mógł być z Tobą razem, on przecież nie musi tak pisać. A więc znów sprawdzają się Twoje słowa, że te wszystkie flirty są przelotne, a tą prawdziwą przystanią i przyjaciółką jest jednak żona, trzeba tylko mieć dużo siły i nerwów by ten okres przetrwać. Cierpienia ludzkie naprawdę nie mają granic, mało, że człowiek musi tak ciężko walczyć o byt, to jeszcze potrzebne są tego rodzaju zmartwienia, no ale c’est la vie! Nie mogę zapomnieć rozmowy z R bezpośrednio po tym, jak on odmówił posady w Sosnowcu. R był coś bardzo podniecony, bo wielu ludzi uważało, że on postępuje niesłusznie i powiedział: „wszystko mogło się tak prosto ułożyć, ale ja wcale nie chcę prostego życia, ja chcę skomplikowane” no i ma skomplikowane! I co z tego wszystkiego będzie? Że R teraz nie chce tu wracać, to może i ma rację, bo tu jest bardzo ciężko. Ale swoją drogą i w „źle” nie ma granic. Ja mam znajomą, którą wysiedlono z Wiednia, ona chciała dostać się do Palestyny, nie było to takie proste, nareszcie dostała się na okręt, pierwszej nocy była szalona burza, a drugiej okręt doszczętnie spłonął, tak że pasażerowie, między innymi i ona, z trudem dostali się łodziami na brzeg. Upał był straszny, a więc wszyscy byli w szortach, bez rzeczy, bez jedzenia, bez pieniędzy. Obecnie znajdują się oni na wyspie Rodos, umierają z głodu, piszą rozpaczliwe listy, ja czytałam taki list i miałam wrażenie, że mu jesteśmy w raju – mamy przecież dach nad głową (wprawdzie niezapłacony), mamy co jeść, w co się ubrać i jesteśmy razem. Gdyby człowiek zawsze patrzył tylko w dół, to może byłby szczęśliwy, niestety jest to tylko chwilowa pociecha.
A teraz co do mnie. Józio wyczytał w moich listach zdenerwowanie (nie mam pojęcia co się wtedy ze mną działo) i kazał mi na te ostatnie parę dni jego urlopu do niego przyjechać, grożąc mi, że w przeciwnym razie on przedwcześnie wróci do domu. Pieniędzy na ten cel wprawdzie nie miałam, ale jakoś sobie poradziłam i pojechałam do niego na 4 dni. Pogodę miałam piękną, towarzystwo bardzo miłe, Józio był dla mnie wyjątkowo serdeczny, to też wszystkie bzdury prędko wywietrzały mi z głowy. Było mi coś tak beztrosko, tak dobrze, że mam teraz wrażenie, że te 4 dni to było to lato, na które się czeka cały rok, a reszta to nic. Między innymi spotkałam tam Kal Ist. z synem, bardzo się Tobą interesowała, dałam jej Twój adres bo chce do Ciebie napisać. A propos Kele bardzo źle wygląda, bardzo się skarżyła, mają dużo zmartwień, bo ich firma „plajtnęła”.
List Twój otrzymałam w dniu mojego wyjazdu, dlatego też dziś dopiero piszę. Józio dobrze się poprawił i odpoczął. Ja znów wróciłam do rachunków i codziennych kłopotów. Jak Ci już pisałam, bardzo źle działa na mnie ojciec, to że on nie zarabia, po prostu go zabija (zapewniam Cię, że od nas nie usłyszał ani jednego słowa wyrzutu, na cóż by to się zdało?). On nie przestaje stękać i zazdrościć ludziom, którzy umierają, mnie te słowa doprowadzają do wściekłości, bo uważam, że ojciec ……….., jeszcze wcale mu nie jest tak źle. Ja jednak trochę się uspokoiłam i jakoś lżej mi jest i to dobre!
Pisz, Madziuchno! Całuję mocno, mocno
Fania
Ucałuj Jankę
Best guess at German:[7]
Warschau dem 22/10 41
Liebste Jani! Schon lange haber uir von Dir keine Nachrichten und auch ich habe an Dich nicht geschrieben, was mir sehn leid tut. Wirsindt aber alle so in antspruch genommen, dass wir sum schreiben wenig zeit haben. Heute whielt ich von Tante Rosa Deine Sachen, die für mich bestiment waren: Sportzaikchen, voten Sveter, Schal Strümpfe und Schlüpfer. Alles war erunüch und wird me su Gute kommen. Empfanga meiner herrlichsten Danke für Deine Gaben der Opa hat sich auch damit sehn gefruet. Es geht ihm gesundheitlich nicht übel, obwohl er in sehn bescheidenen verhaltnissen leber must. Ich habe darfur aber keinem Rad. Bei Gelegenheit dankt er Dir fur kahas, dem ihm sehn geschmecht hat. Von Tante Franka missen uir dass zu gehst Deine Endesamen macht, haffentlich must Du sie jut bertehen was uns alles sehr gluchlich macher wird. Unsere innijsten Wunsche poljen ur siblarm Deine Eltern. Schon lange haben sie uns nicht geschrieben. Sind sie so feder faül wir erwanten unbechingt Nachrichten von Dir Madie und Rolf. Sei gesund und [gehü sot] von uns allen auch von Tante Rosa. Deine Fany
Google Translate:
Dearest Jani! I haven't had any messages from you for a long time and I haven't written to you either, which I am sorry. But we are all so concerned that we have little time to write. Today I chose from Aunt Rosa your things[8] that were best for me: sports tights, cute Sveter, scarf stockings and panties. Everything was unreal and will come to me. Received my most wonderful thank you for your gifts the grandfather has seen with it. His health is not bad, even though he has to live in modest circumstances. But I am not allowed to have a bike. On occasion, he thanks you for kahas, who has disgusted him. From Aunt Franka we miss that going to make your final seeds, hopefully you have to survive them jut which makes everything very easy for us. Our innermost wishes poljen ur siblarm your parents. They haven't written to us for a long time. If you are so lazy, we will definitely get news from you Madie and Rolf. Be healthy and of all of us, including Aunt Rosa. Your Fany
Best guess at German:[7]
Warschau 13/4 42
Liebste Jani! Besten Dank für Deine wei Karten vom 19/3 und 25/III. Ich freu mich schon aus Ralphs Brief, da ich schon lange von ihm keine
Bei uns hält noch der Winter sest, un mochten auch schon etwas wärmen haben. Nächste Woche beabsichtige auf dem Friedhof zu gehen, um eine bescheidenes Denkmal für Opa zu bestellen, sonst kann sein Grab verscheiden. Das Geld werde ich von Verkauf seiner Sachen haben. Tausend küsse Fanny
Google Translate:
Dearest Jani! Thank you for your two cards from 19/3 and 25 / III. I'm looking forward to Ralph's letter because I haven't had any news from him for a long time. Your things[8] and uvar: Sweater with 2 brazen, skirt, neml and pants Pola's swords received and was very moved. In contrast, a scarf and belt were missing. Write in detail about this and Aunt R. to Franka. Juzio works blessig like before. We live a modest and lonely life, we meet with Aunt R. and we want to talk about such. We hope to see our brother and sister soon. Hassendish are doing well.
With us the winter still holds up, and we want to have some warmth. Next week intend to go to the cemetery to order a modest monument for Opa, otherwise his grave may perish. I'll get the money from selling his things. A thousand kisses Fanny
Notes:
Not sure why Mom was so off, but Raphael was born in 1892. Also, looking into Fania, JRI-Poland suggests 1905 as her birth date.
In late November 1916, she was still in Moscow. See wedding congratulations.
Hard to decipher month, looks like a 6. Grandfather left Berlin in early April 1939.
Mom and Granny's notes don't mention Amsterdam as one of his stops.
Nickname for her husband, apparently a diminutive for Jozef, which might be his given name.
"The well-fed does not understand the hungry." A well-know Russian proverb.
These are my transcriptions; did my best with the German handwriting. Clearly some words I haven't gotten right!
I have written elsewhere about being surprised at how mail continued to get through during wartime, but with packages to Warsaw I hadn't given any thought until I found out about Aunt Franka's letters to a gentleman who was getting packages to Poland from Switzerland through Portugal! According to these archives:
Alfred (Alf) Schwarzbaum was born in 1896 in Sosnowiec, Poland. He later moved to Bedzin, became a businessman and started a family. In late September 1939, following the German occupation of Poland, he sent his daughter to England. In November 1939, he was jailed for several weeks in Mysłowice and was interrogated by the Gestapo. After his release, he turned down an offer from Mosheh Merin, head of the Sosnowiec Jewish council, to be his deputy. Using his connections and his fortune, he was able to obtain visas for Switzerland. In April 1940 he left Poland and settled in Lausanne. Schwarzbaum soon started sending out food, clothing, money and papers to Poland. He managed to navigate between the often uncoordinated Jewish and Zionist organizations based in Switzerland, to transfer financial help to Jews in Poland. He sent hundreds of parcels to German occupied localities, via Lisbon, Sweden and Turkey. He visited refugee camps in Switzerland, and corresponded with persons living under the Nazi rule. He also produced passports, which led him into trouble with the Swiss police, who feared for violation of the country's neutrality policy. In 1946 he immigrated to Mandate Palestine.
This would seem to correspond to the ship "Rim"; see this newspaper article and this Yad Vashem story of another passenger.
At some point, they moved--or were moved--from Lodz to Warsaw; probably the former, as there is not much evidence of forced moves in that direction.
Birth: 1900
Death: Auschwitiz ?
Immediate Family:
Daughter of Herman Jonas and Klara Jonas
Wife of Juscio Uryson
Sister of Rafal Jonas and Pola Rafalvna Jonas