12: A cold welcome

The Štaub family suffered through terrible deprivation and many fearful days in the Tatras, but their return to Prešov brings with it another kind of pain and difficulty. They find that their home and all their belongings have been taken.

Even more distressing than the loss of property is the discovery that few of their family and friends have survived. In the months since the Štaubs fled from Prešov and were in hiding, the deportation and murder of Slovak Jews had drastically increased under Nazi occupation. In 1940, Prešov’s Jewish population had been 4,500; in 1948, it is just 452. All told, of the 70,000 Jews deported from Slovakia, 60,000 have been murdered.

All four of Oscar’s grandparents, nearly all aunts and uncles and all but three of his cousins were murdered during the Holocaust. Against all odds, all four members of the Zinger family, with whom Oscar lived in Kassa, have survived. But with the exception of Eva—his first crush—all of Oscar’s young friends, including Nadja, his dancing partner from his year in Hungary, are dead.

Excerpt from Escape to the Tatras

A great deal of prejudice toward returning Jews was blatantly expressed in the streets. We heard unkind comments from Christians resentful of our return to our hometown. People shouted insults like “What? Hitler didn’t finish the job?” or “Why did you come back?” I was called a stinking little Jew by kids passing me in the streets. It hurt deeply and made me angry. Coming home was a terrible disappointment.

To think that only some seventy-two hours earlier, I had been hungry and cold, sitting in my bunker, awaiting the moment of liberation, and hopeful of returning to a society that celebrated freedom and condemned bigotry and discrimination. Apparently some people in Prešov still believed that the regime of hatred and persecution had not been vanquished. The propaganda of Fascist supremacy has found its way deep into their blood. They still hated us and although the dark days of plunder and theft of Jewish properties were short-lived and the Hlinka Guardists ran off with the retreating Nazi army, some of these para-military thugs and their Fascist supporters yet remained. They continued to shoot off their ugly mouths, causing more pain to the returning survivors whose relatives and friends had perished in the Nazi death camps.

Excerpt from Escape to the Tatras

None of this made any sense. Those who perished were all wonderful people who didn’t deserve to die. Now they were gone, as if they had never existed at all. In addition, I had a sad lingering feeling that I had lost something else very precious to me—my own childhood. I returned to Prešov feeling old before my time. Never again would I wonder with wide, innocent eyes at the world unfolding around me. I had seen too much.

When I stayed with our relatives, the Zinger family in Kassa (who miraculously survived Auschwitz), I remembered missing my parents terribly and how, on many nights, I cried under the covers before falling asleep. Now, I cried endless tears for my cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents and wonderful friends who had been taken from this earth. Often, in my prayers, I questioned God, asking why I survived, and they did not. Especially, I missed my cousins Irenka and Agi who were almost like sisters to me. I had felt so very close to them.

Besides my great sadness, I also harbored a great deal of hostility against the Slovak Fascists, the despicable Jew haters, who persecuted us, rounded up our people, and handed them over to the Nazis for slaughter. Following this admission, I tried not to let my anger own me. I knew there had to be a brighter future ahead and it was up to me to make it my own. I had to reclaim my life. 

In retrospect, all I can say today is that I am more than grateful that there were decent people in this world who stood by us and remained our friends until the very end.  They lived what they believed, accepting and respecting others, even if those people were different than themselves. It goes without saying that this is the way it should always be. It was with great comfort that I could confirm the friendship and loyalty of the Šolc family and go to sleep at night knowing that the entire world had not betrayed us.