Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre

Stories of trauma, resilience

Love runs through every word in Voices of Resilience: An Anthology of Stories Written by Children of Holocaust Survivors, edited by Deborah (Devora) Ross-Grayman with Wendy Bancroft and the writers.

This compelling, hopeful and inspiring collection of stories will be launched on May 25, 7 p.m., in the Floral Hall at VanDusen Botanical Garden in an event supported by the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre (VHEC). Some of the authors will share parts of their stories, and signed books will be available for purchase.

The 12 contributors of stories and poems are children of Holocaust survivors and members of the Vancouver Second-Generation (2G) Group, which Ross-Grayman joined in 1993 and of which she is now a facilitator. Bancroft, a former journalist and researcher, is a trained instructor of guided autobiography.

“After an extensive investigation to better understand the impact of the Shoah’s legacy, Wendy adapted and crafted themes for our group,” writes Ross-Grayman in the book’s preface.

“What began as a six-week course for six of us grew to a two-year writing project for 12 participants,” she explains. “Through laughter and tears, we marveled at the similarity in our felt experiences despite the varied external circumstances. At times it was challenging to face and hold our parents’ pain and loss; at times we were sleepless and anxious, but we supported each other, developed deep bonds, and persevered. Through listening and reﬂecting on each of the stories, our understanding of ourselves and each other grew as we shared what some of us had never shared and, with understanding, came to a deeper compassion for ourselves and our parents.

“Our narratives so impressed Wendy that she recommended organizing an anthology. We included accounts of our parents’ survival to honour their lives and illustrate examples of post-traumatic growth – the positive psychological changes that can unintentionally arise from a life crisis or traumatic event, even while acknowledging the profound distress such experiences entail.”

The simultaneous holding of grief and contentment, even joy, is remarkable, as is the strength to continue, to grow, to heal – as much as healing is possible. The authors (in order of entries) – Gabriella Klein, Ross-Grayman, Henry Ross-Grayman, Jane Heyman, Marg Van Wielingen, Fran Alexander, Agi Rejto, Marianne Rev, Esther Chase, Barbara Gard, Olga Campbell and Sidi Schaffer – are open, sharing personal, vulnerable experiences on the page. The intergenerational impacts of trauma are clear from their diverse experiences, but so is the capacity for finding peace, for building community, for embracing one’s cultural roots while forging your own individual identity. While specific to the Holocaust, these stories, these remembrances, speak to a universal experience of living through and with historical trauma.

The anthology, put out by Amsterdam Publishers as part of the series Holocaust Survivor True Stories, is dedicated to the writers’ families; “to those who risked everything to save lives; to those who survived; to the millions who perished in the Holocaust; and to all people affected by war, displacement and genocide.” It is published in memory of Rev, who passed away in January.

Dr. Robert Krell, a psychiatrist, author, child survivor and founding president of the VHEC, wrote the book’s foreword, in which he shares some of his own story – he is both a Holocaust survivor and a 2G child – and offers emotional context. Dr. Chris Friedrichs, professor emeritus at the University of British Columbia, provides historical context.

Krell explains that, in general, “the second-generation consists of those born after the war, thousands in the displaced persons (DP) camps, which, for several years, recorded the highest birth rate in the world!” He talks about some of the experiences that 2G have in common, such as the need to sometimes parent their parents, how it feels to live “with the ghosts of the missing.”

“There are moments one cannot forget, must not forget, and these memories linger and reverberate throughout life, reviving the inner rage about the outrage committed against our parents and us,” writes Krell.

“It should therefore be no surprise that this collection of recollections reveals evidence of a surviving rage, problems with trust, confrontations with the meaning of death, and remarkable attempts to reinvigorate a life with meaning, including a meaningful spiritual engagement, whether within the Jewish traditions or not.”

“Mass murders were nothing new in history, but the Holocaust revealed that a once civilized society could orchestrate a program of extermination of human lives on a scale and in a manner that had never been imagined before,” writes Friedrichs. “It was so extensive and so unspeakably brutal that it gave rise to the very concept of genocide.”

Friedrichs writes concisely of the origins of the Holocaust, what happened and about how there are any survivors, as well as about some of the challenges survivors faced after the war.

“This volume reveals not only the enormous variety of what survivors went through but also the tremendous range of emotions and experiences that shaped the lives of their children,” he writes. “Though the Shoah ended 80 years ago, it is a living presence for all members of the Jewish people, and for none more so than those Jews whose own parents had survived this event without comparison in the modern history of humanity.”

In Voices of Resilience, each 2G writer’s chapter includes a brief biography, their parents’ survival stories and a few of their own stories or poems. Maps near the anthology’s beginning shows where all the authors were born and all the survivor parents’ birthplaces. The geography spans continents: Asia, Europe, the Middle East and North America.

Despite vastly different experiences, there are recurring topics: dealing with antisemitism; taking care of their survivor parent; feelings of insufficiency, fear and sadness; being conflicted about religion and feeling like an outsider even inside the Jewish community.

The writers have worked to make their lives and the larger world better, as did their parents. The word “love” is prominent in these stories, as is its expression in the enduring strength of the family relationships, the caring for others, as well as oneself, the compassion shown, the emotional connections forged.

“We offer our stories as a source of hope and the possibility of resilience in the aftermath of trauma,” writes Deborah Ross-Grayman in the afterword.

No one contribution is more quotable than another. The collection does indeed offer hope, as well as thought-provoking explorations of memory, displacement and the generational impacts of genocide.

To attend the launch, RSVP at vhec.org. The anthology is available on Amazon for those who can’t make it on the 25th.

Remembrance – a moral act

Malka Pischanitskaya, centre, told her story of survival at the Vancouver community’s Yom Hashoah ceremony. Her daughter, Inna Turner, and granddaughter, Sophie Turner, also spoke at the April 14 event. (Rhonda Dent Photography)

Even before the Holocaust upended her life, Malka Pischanitskaya’s family was hobbled by poverty. Her father left before she was born, and she was largely raised by her grandmother and great-aunt while her mother worked elsewhere. After the Nazi invasion reached Romaniv, Ukraine, in 1941, when Malka was 10 years old, she saw Jews murdered in the streets. On Aug. 25, 1941, Romaniv’s Jews were rounded up for mass execution.

On that day, there was a pounding on the family’s front door and orders to assemble at a central location. What followed was chaos, crowds converging from all directions, families separated. Men were taken away and executed.

“The screams of men were just horrible,” she recalled.

Malka and her mother survived only because, after hours of terror, some mothers with children were unexpectedly released. Most of their family and community were murdered.

What followed were years of hiding, near-starvation and repeated brushes with death. The title of Pischanitskaya’s memoir, A Mother to My Mother, published by the Azrieli Foundation, comes from the reversal forced on her by war: her mother was so traumatized that young Malka often became the more practical, protective figure, begging for food and helping keep them alive. (See jewishindependent.ca/a-harrowing-survival-story.)

Pischanitskaya shared her story April 14 at the annual Yom Hashoah community event, marking Holocaust Remembrance Day, in conversation with Ellie Lawson, education manager of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre.

Each day, Malka left her mother hidden – in a haystack, a trench, wherever they could remain unseen – and went from door to door in nearby villages, begging for bread. Malka had gone to a Ukrainian public school and spoke Ukrainian fluently, while her mother was identifiably Jewish by her accent. Sometimes people helped, sometimes they could not, but two people in particular probably ensured Malka and her mother lived.

One of those people was Lydia. When Malka first approached her, Lydia demurred. “My home is so empty,” she said. “Like a crystal bowl.”

Malka proposed that, if Lydia would hide her and her mother, she would continue to gather food and share it. Lydia agreed and, for more than a year, Malka and her mother lived hidden in Lydia’s home.

Eventually, neighbours became suspicious. Malka and her mother moved, this time to the home of a young orphan who, like Lydia, chose to help despite the risks.

Both women would be recognized at Yad Vashem as Righteous Among the Nations.

“They needed us as much as we needed them,” Pischanitskaya said of the relationships forged in desperation.

By the end of the war, nearly 40 members of her family were gone – and she began to rebuild a life. “I was not sitting and crying,” she said. “I was mobilized.”

They returned to Romaniv to find almost nothing left. Malka finished school, earned a teaching diploma in Zhytomyr in 1954. She married, had two children, lived in Tashkent and Uzhhorod, and immigrated to Vancouver in 1975. For decades, she did not speak about her Holocaust experiences.

Pischanitskaya’s daughter, Inna Turner, who joined her at the Yom Hashoah event, grew up with the emotional weight of that silence.

“I didn’t know she was a Holocaust survivor,” Turner said. “But I felt it.”

Turner said the silence had a profound effect on her life.

“I think many Holocaust survivors suffer from PTSD,” she said. “And, in the olden days we didn’t know much about it. We know more now, or at least we think we do, and we know that it affects an individual. But it affects not just an individual, it affects people who are the closest to the individual, like children, grandchildren, spouses, siblings, the family. Being a child of a Holocaust survivor, well, what can I say? Not a walk in the park, that’s for sure.”

Only years later did Pischanitskaya begin to speak – through a community of survivors, art and writing.

Pischanitskaya’s granddaughter, Sophie Turner, introduced her not only as a survivor, but as a grandmother who is strong and resilient. She sees her grandmother’s story as a responsibility she and others of her generation are obligated to sustain. “This is not only history,” she said. “It is living memory that we carry with us.”

Survivors lit candles representing six million lives lost, including one and a half million children. Vancouver Mayor Ken Sim and US Consul General Shawn Crowley were among the dignitaries who attended. Rabbi Dan Moskovitz, senior rabbi at Temple Sholom, which hosted the event with the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre and the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver, with support from the Jewish Federation’s annual campaign and the Province of British Columbia, welcomed attendees.

“We live in a time when the language of the Holocaust is being used in ways that empty it of meaning,” said Moskovitz, “Words like genocide, once anchored in specific historical reality, are now invoked casually…. Comparisons are made that collapse moral distinctions rather than clarify them. And, perhaps most troubling, the Holocaust itself is sometimes inverted – Jews recast not as victims, but as perpetrators. This is not just inaccurate, it is dangerous. The Holocaust was not a metaphor. It was not a slogan. It was the systematic, industrialized attempt to annihilate the Jewish people. Six million Jews were murdered, families were erased, entire communities were destroyed. That reality demands precision, honesty and reverence. And when that truth is blurred, something else is lost as well. Empathy is lost. Understanding is lost. And the moral clarity that the Holocaust calls us to carry into the world begins to fade.”

“Remembrance is not a passive state of being,” said Hannah Marazzi, executive director of the VHEC. “It is an act of moral choice … an act of resistance.”

In addition to mourning those murdered, she said, Yom Hashoah is about honouring survivors. “Those who endured unimaginable suffering and yet found the strength to go on,” she said. “Many rebuilt their lives here in Canada. Their resilience, wisdom and testimony have shaped not only this community, but the city of Vancouver, and continue to shape the work that we undertake at the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre.”

A musical program included Abbygail Sandler, Cantor Michael Zoosman, Cantor Shani Cohen, Lisa Kesselman and Ellie Sherman. They were accompanied by Eric Wilson on cello, Erin Marks on oboe, Wendy Bross Stuart and Perry Ehrlich on piano. Cantor Yaacov Orzech chanted the memorial prayer El Moleh Rachamim.

Recipes a form of resistance

As part of its celebration of BC Heritage Week, the Vancouver Heritage Foundation held the online event Recipes of Resistance: Rebecca Teitelbaum and the Ravensbrück Recipe Book, presented by Lise Kirchner and Ellie Lawson of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre. Kirchner is the VHEC’s director of education, Lawson its education manager.

The theme of this year’s Heritage Week is “Stir the Pot,” explained VHF director of education Sarah Carlson. She encouraged viewers to “think about the ways that food brings us together, how it holds memory, and how it has contributed to the rich cultural tapestry of your community and beyond.”

Teitelbaum’s recipe book was donated to the VHEC by Teitelbaum’s nephew, Alex Buckman, also a Holocaust survivor, who died in 2023.

“He was Rebecca’s nephew, but he actually was raised as Rebecca’s son…. Rebecca was the only mother that Alex ever knew,” said Kirchner. “His parents perished in Auschwitz, and Rebecca made a promise to God that she would raise Alex as her own son, which she did.

“In the 1990s, Alex discovered this recipe book in the drawer of Rebecca’s home, and he asked her about it. He had never heard the story before. Apparently, she had never told anybody, but she explained to Alex the incredible story of this recipe book, how it was created and how it survived.”

Kirchner showed many archival photographs, including of Teitelbaum and one of Teitelbaum with her younger brother, Isaac Buckman, in the 1930s.

“Isaac is Alex’s father,” explained Kirchner. “These two siblings, Rebecca and Isaac, were very close. They also had a younger brother, Jacques.”

screenshot - Herman and Rebecca Teitelbaum, 1938 — Herman and Rebecca Teitelbaum, 1938. *(screenshot from VHEC presentation)*

Rebecca and her husband Herman were married in 1938. “They had a daughter, Anny, in 1939, and they lived … near Brussels, before the Second World War. Rebecca worked in the accounting department of a department store in the city of Brussels.”

Kirchner also shared a photo of Isaac and Dworja Buckman, who married around the same time as the Teitelbaums.

“The same year that Rebecca’s daughter, Anny, was born, Isaac and Dworja had a son, Alex, in October 1939.”

In May 1940, Germany invaded Belgium and the Nazis set up a military occupation government. “Unlike many other countries where the civil administrations cooperated with Nazi deportations, the situation in Belgium was much different and, as a result, the survival rate of Belgian Jews was higher than many of the Western European countries,” said Kirchner.

Nonetheless, restrictions were placed on Jews and Kirchner went through the progression of anti-Jewish laws in Belgium. There were pogroms, as well, and, in May 1942, all Jews over the age of 6 had to wear the yellow star to identify them as Jewish.

From 1941 to mid-1942, Anny and Alex were placed into hiding, which worked until their families ran out of money, said Kirchner. When the woman hiding the kids denounced them to the Nazi authorities, the families were in grave danger.

“Between 1942 and 1944, the German occupying forces deported around 25,000 Jews from Belgium to concentration and death camps in the east, primarily to Auschwitz, and only 2,000 of these survived – 43% of the Jewish population in Belgium was murdered,” said Kirchner.

Once the Belgian resistance became more organized, there were resistance networks focused on hiding Jewish children. The largest was the Committee for the Defence of Jews, she said, and it successfully hid some 2,400 Jewish children from the Nazis, including Anny and Alex.

Isaac and Dworja Buckman were deported to Auschwitz-Birkenau in 1943 and murdered. Rebecca and Herman Teitelbaum were deported to forced labour camps in Germany: Herman to Buchenwald, and Rebecca to Ravensbrück.

“Rebecca spent 17 months in Ravensbrück concentration camp as a slave labourer,” said Kirchner. “She was first assigned to work hard labour, hauling wood and stone and heavy carts in very harsh outdoor conditions, but, because she had worked in that department store in Belgium and she had experience with accounting work, she was able to secure a much better work assignment in the office of the Siemens factory.”

Siemens was one of the private companies that used Jewish slave labour, explained Kirchner, before turning the floor over to Lawson to talk about Ravensbrück.

“It was originally built for a little over a thousand prisoners, but, at its peak in 1945, there were over 50,000 prisoners,” said Lawson, who went into some detail about the factory and Siemens’ cooperation with the Nazis.

Despite the unimaginable circumstances, resistance was evident. Lawson shared a quote from Lidia Beccia Rolfi, an Italian prisoner: “Even the theft of a piece of wire, a sheet of paper, of a cloth rag was seen as sabotage, but everyone committed that. Any form of friendship between inmates was seen as sabotage.”

Lawson played a clip from Alex Buckman’s video-recorded survivor testimony. He explained how Rebecca noticed there weren’t that many supervisors at night.

“And then she stole a piece of brown paper, and she put it in her dress,” he said. “And then she stole a little pencil and a pair of scissors. And, at night, she ran towards her barrack, very nervous because she knew that, if somebody would stop her with all these stolen goods, she would be in trouble and they probably would make an example of her, maybe either shoot her or hang her. But she did it.”

screenshot - A page from Rebecca Teitelbaum’s cookbook, which she compiled at great risk during her incarceration at Ravensbrück concentration camp — A page from Rebecca Teitelbaum’s cookbook, which she compiled at great risk during her incarceration at Ravensbrück concentration camp. *(screenshot from VHEC presentation)*

In the barrack, she cut the paper into smaller pieces and started to write recipes “of meals that she did for her husband and her daughter before the war…. With the help of other women, who gave her some of their own recipes, and many of hers, she wrote 110 recipes,” he said. “Even though food was very important to stay alive in the concentration camp, she actually traded some of her food for needles and thread, and she made a book so she could keep it.”

The recipes weren’t necessarily accurate, said Kirchner. “You’ll notice most of the recipes are very heavy on butter and sugar and luxury items like raisins and rum or cream. On the other hand, some of the recipes reflect wartime scarcity…. But the dominant theme of these recipes is one of abundance.”

The recipes reflect the cultural diversity of the women imprisoned in the camp, said Kirchner. “These were women from all over Europe … about half of them were Jewish, but many of them were not, and so the recipes reflect a cultural diversity that’s Jewish, Belgian, French, Spanish, Mediterranean.”

Teitelbaum completed three recipe books, giving two to other women in the camp.

“Rebecca also created another thin volume that contains poems and resistance songs,” said Kirchner, adding, “She also made two sets of playing cards, which the Roma women in the camp would use to tell the fortune of other prisoners. So, again, building community between not just the Jewish women in the camp, but across cultures. And this was an essential form of hope and community-building and resistance by the camp inmates.”

Teitelbaum was one of 2,000 women saved in a Red Cross mission that saw 36 buses take the women from Ravensbrück to safety in Denmark and Sweden. However, the area was still a war zone and one fleet was hit by friendly fire.

“This convoy carrying 706 women, including Rebecca, was attacked multiple times by fighter planes and, as a result, there were about 25 fatalities and numerous injuries among the rescued prisoners,” said Kirchner. “Rebecca herself survived the attack, but was hit by shrapnel and badly injured her left arm. And, in the scuffle and the mayhem that followed … she lost her bundle of belongings: a sack that contained her recipe book.”

Herman, Anny, Jacques and Alex also survived.

screenshot - Anny Teitelbaum and Alex Buckman, 1945 — Anny Teitelbaum and Alex Buckman, 1945. (screenshot from VHEC presentation)

“Anny and Alex were raised as siblings,” said Kirchner, and Rebecca and Herman had another child after the war. “Rebecca named this baby Christian, in honour of King Christian … who had visited her in the hospital, and who had become a bit of a folk hero in the Jewish community in Denmark.

“In 1951, the family left Europe and they arrived at Pier 21 in Halifax in September of 1951 before making their way to Montreal, where they settled permanently,” continued Kirchner. “They had one last child, named Shirley, who was born in Montreal in 1953, and Rebecca Teitelbaum became a Canadian citizen in 1957. She lived the rest of her life in Montreal, and she died there in 1999.”

The sack Teitelbaum had lost was found near the site of the bombing and, because it contained letters that identified her, the person that found the bag tracked her down.

“Rebecca’s recipe book is one of six Holocaust recipe books that we’re aware of in museums around the world,” said Kirchner. “These artifacts have given historians greater understanding about the unique responses of women to their persecution…. Unlike traditional cookbooks, they’re not about cooking, in practice, they’re about maintaining identity, resisting dehumanization, transmitting a culture that the Nazis were attempting to destroy, and they also functioned as a psychological coping mechanism that forged group cohesion and a spirit of communal care.

“The creation of these recipe books all came at great risk and sacrifice, and they’re important not only because they demonstrate the agency of female prisoners who were trying to assert control over their hunger by eating with words, but they also provide an archive of women’s communal responses to their persecution, which elevates women’s domestic expertise to the level of historical record.”

In his talks as an outreach speaker, Buckman would give students the Gâteau à l’orange recipe from Teitelbaum’s book.

“This was a cake,” said Kirchner, “that Rebecca would make for Alex every birthday, and he would encourage the children to make it at home with their own parents, to give their parents a hug, to make this orange cake in honour of his Aunt Rebecca, and also in memory of all of those who were murdered in the Holocaust, including his own parents, Isaac and Dworja.”

The recipe is on the VHEC’s website, vhec.org.

Rebuilding a life after Shoah

Prof. Robin Judd, author of Between Two Worlds: Jewish War Brides After the Holocaust, speaks with community members at the Kristallnacht commemoration in Vancouver Nov. 9. (photo by Sova Photography)

The history of war brides – generally British or European women who married Allied military men – is widely known and has been explored by historians and social scientists. Between 1944 and 1948, about 65,000 dependents came to Canada as spouses or intended spouses of military personnel.

Speaking at Vancouver’s annual Kristallnacht commemorative event Nov. 9 at Congregation Beth Israel, Prof. Robin Judd discussed an almost unknown subset of this phenomenon: Holocaust survivors who met Allied soldiers in displaced persons’ camps after the war and went on to marry them.

Judd is associate professor of history at Ohio State University and immediate past president of the Association for Jewish Studies, the largest international society for scholars of Jewish studies. Her award-winning book Between Two Worlds: Jewish War Brides After the Holocaust explores the harrowing task of rebuilding a life in the wake of the Holocaust.

Many Jewish survivors, as well as community and religious leaders, viewed marriage between Jewish women and military personnel as a way for the survivors to move forward after extraordinary trauma, said Judd, whose academic interest in the subject stems from family history.

“My grandmother was a war bride,” Judd said. “She was a survivor. She and my father survived the war in hiding. My biological grandfather died at liberation, and my grandmother married an American soldier after the war, who then adopted my father.”

Her grandmother spoke little about her experiences during or immediately after the war, though Judd knew the rough outline of her past. Only when Judd began research into the subject did she learn that her grandmother’s experience was not as unique as Judd had assumed.

The individual stories of these war brides, and their efforts to integrate, offer lessons around survival in the aftermath of trauma, as well as larger issues concerning marriage, immigration and citizenship, she said.

Judd focused on a few couples, including Isaac and Leesha (neé Leisje Bornstijn) Rose, and Sala (neé Solarcz) and Abe Bonder.

Sala survived in the Warsaw Ghetto for more than a year, before deportation to a ghetto outside Lublin, then to Majdanek and a series of other camps. She was liberated during a death march in April 1945.

At Rosh Hashanah services at a DP camp in Hanover, she met Abe, a mechanic in the Royal Canadian Air Force. Until then, Judd said, Sala had avoided the Canadian and British soldiers overseeing the DP camp because she said they made her feel like a monkey in the zoo.

“But Abe came to her and started to speak to her in a very quiet Yiddish,” Judd recounted. “It was his questioning, his real interest in understanding who she was and what she had experienced that made her want to seek a second encounter with him.”

Many of the war brides found themselves at the whims of their new extended families, subsumed into existing structures that were foreign and unfamiliar. Often, they arrived in the new country and did not have homes of their own but lived with their husbands’ families, sometimes with multiple generations in the same home.

Leesha arrived in Ottawa and moved in with fiancé Isaac and her soon-to-be mother-in-law, with whom she had limited language skills to communicate. The groom’s mother took it upon herself to plan the wedding.

“Leesha and other war brides are often talking about how, in these moments, whether it was the marriage or it was having their first child, or it was their first child’s bar or bat mitzvah, or their first child’s wedding, how they so desperately missed those murdered family members at that time,” Judd said.

Newcomers were sometimes judged unfairly, as if their healthy appearance diminished the perception of their suffering. A newspaper article described Leesha as “a good-natured chubby little girl.”

“There was this notion that these women looked almost too healthy,” said Judd, “That the trauma was almost not written sufficiently enough on her body.”

Associations and networks existed for the newcomers to connect with others from similar backgrounds, including Jewish war bride clubs and synagogue-affiliated groups.

The war bride experiences Judd studies are diverse and include sad but also happy memories, she said, from the difficulties of reconstruction and recovery to stories of resilience and rebuilding.

Prof. Chris Friedrichs, a scholar of German history who taught at the University of British Columbia from 1973 until his retirement in 2018, contextualized Judd’s presentation, as well as Kristallnacht and the larger history of the Holocaust.

Kristallnacht sent a message to the world, he said. But the world did not listen.

“This horrific Night of Broken Glass was front page news all over the world, but not for long,” he recounted. “Much else was going on in the world at that time and, within a few days, Kristallnacht was forgotten. In fact, the world learned nothing from Kristallnacht. But the Nazis learned a lot. They realized that whatever they might do to the Jews, there would be no consequences. And thus, once Hitler’s war started in 1939, within Germany itself and in every country the Germans conquered under cover of war, a relentless program to exterminate the Jews began to be carried out by beatings, by shootings, by starvation and by gas.”

Hannah Marazzi, executive director of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre (VHEC), which presented the event in partnership with Beth Israel and the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, called Kristallnacht “a defining moment in which the shadow of hatred quite literally burst into flame.”

Dr. Abby Wener Herlin, associate director of programs and community relations for the VHEC, introduced Holocaust survivors, who lit candles of remembrance.

“Tonight, as we are about to light candles … we vow never to forget the lives of the women, men and children who are symbolized by these flames,” she said. “May the memory of their lives inspire us to live so that we may help to ensure that their memories live on.”

Beth Israel’s Rabbi Jonathan Infeld thanked the speaker and reflected on his family’s experience.

“My father left the DP camp and moved to Pittsburgh,” Infeld said. At a party at the Jewish community centre specifically to make shidduchim, marriage matches, for Holocaust survivors, he met the woman who would become his wife and the rabbi’s mother.

photo - Vancouver Deputy Mayor Sarah Kirby-Yung, centre, and councilors Lenny Zhou and Lucy Maloney at the Nov. 9 Kristallnacht commemoration — Vancouver Deputy Mayor Sarah Kirby-Yung, centre, and councilors Lenny Zhou and Lucy Maloney at the Nov. 9 Kristallnacht commemoration. *(photo by Sova Photography)*

Cantor Yaakov Orzech chanted El Moleh Rachamim, the memorial prayer.

Taleeb Noormohamed, member of Parliament for Vancouver Granville, warned of the dangers of ignoring the lessons of history.

“If we don’t take the lesson that remembrance requires us to take, we end up with a quiet normalization of what that night represented,” he said. “This is a fight that we all take on. We take on with responsibility, we take on with conviction, and we take it on to honour all of you who survived and all of you that have relatives and friends and loved ones that didn’t. So, we say, may their memory be a blessing and, indeed, may it be, but may it also be a reminder to all of us that the work that is to be done is for all of us.”

Terry Yung, member of the BC Legislature for Vancouver-Yaletown and a retired senior officer with the Vancouver Police Department, told the audience the future depends on education.

“We cannot arrest ourselves out of hate, we cannot,” he said. “We have to educate people in this world of darkness.”

Sarah Kirby-Yung, deputy mayor of Vancouver, and fellow city councilors Lenny Zhou and Lucy Maloney read a proclamation from the city.

Vrba monument is unveiled

Robert Krell, left, founding president of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre, and Al Szajman, the current president, unveil the monument to Rudolf Vrba at Schara Tzedeck Cemetery. (photo by Pat Johnson)

Rudolf Vrba, a scientist who had a significant but comparatively quiet career in the laboratories and lecture halls of the University of British Columbia, enjoyed a comfortable life with his wife Robin in Vancouver before his death in 2006. Unbeknownst to thousands of his students over the years, Vrba may have saved more Jews during the Holocaust than any other individual. Despite this astonishing fact, his name has remained almost unknown not only among scholars of that history but even in his own adopted community of Vancouver.

At Schara Tzedeck Cemetery in New Westminster on Oct. 26, a monument was unveiled that seeks to remedy Vrba’s relative anonymity.

“Why do so few know his name?” asked Dr. Robert Krell, founding president of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre and a member of an ad hoc group that came together to recognize Vrba’s life and bravery. “Sir Martin Gilbert, the British historian, wrote that Vrba was directly responsible for saving at least 100,000 Jewish lives. Others now credit him with the preservation of as many as 200,000 Hungarian Jews.”

Before about 200 people gathered in the cemetery’s chapel prior to the monument’s unveiling, Krell recounted the exploits of Vrba and his co-conspirator, fellow Slovakian Jew Alfréd Wetzler, who were incarcerated in Auschwitz.

In April 1944, Vrba, just 19 at the time, and Wetzler, 25, contrived to conceal themselves within the Auschwitz compound, while, outside the camp, a massive search was undertaken by dogs and armed guards. After hiding silently in a woodpile for three days, the two men escaped and traveled for days by foot to Slovakia, where they shared all the information they had amassed about operations at the death camp. Vrba has been credited with having had an almost photographic memory and, over 22 months in Auschwitz, with Wetzler and he both having risen to positions of comparative privilege and trust in the camp, they were uniquely equipped to tell the world what was happening.

Vrba had worked on the arrival platforms at the camp, observing the incoming Jews and, later, in the “Kanada” compound, where the stolen valuables of arriving prisoners were stored. Wetzler was a registrar and clerk in the camp. The pair chose their moment to act because their vantage points alerted them to the imminent deportation of the last remaining large group of surviving Jews in Europe, those of Budapest.

Their account, which became known as the Auschwitz Protocols, or sometimes the Vrba-Wetzler Report, was the most credible and detailed information received to that moment about the extent of mass murder taking place in Auschwitz. More than 400,000 Hungarian Jews had already been murdered.

“The Jews of Budapest were next,” said Krell.

After dictating the report, Vrba joined the Slovakian army as a machine gunner and, later, joined the Slovak partisans, participating in 10 major battles and being awarded multiple medals for bravery.

After the war, Vrba completed a PhD in biochemistry at Charles University in Prague, then lived in Israel and England before serving as a research fellow at Harvard Medical School. He married Robin, an American, in 1975 and they made a home in Vancouver. Vrba was an associate professor in the department of pharmaceutical sciences at UBC for 30 years and Robin was a realtor.

The explanation for Vrba’s relative anonymity has been explored in books, including a recently released first volume of a two-part biography by Vancouver writer Alan Twigg. (Holocaust Hero: The Life and Times of Rudolf Vrba was reviewed in the Oct. 10 issue of the Independent.)

The unfamiliarity with Vrba’s story in Israel, in particular, has been explored by Ruth Linn, a University of Haifa academic who first heard of Vrba when she was on sabbatical in Vancouver in the late 1990s. She returned to Israel and began asking if others with expertise in the field knew of Vrba, Wetzler and their escape. Her explorations led to her 2004 book Escaping Auschwitz: A Culture of Forgetting, which made the case that there was a deliberate effort in Israel to silence Vrba’s voice and obscure his history.

Vrba bore particular animus toward Rezső Kasztner, a leader of the Budapest Jewish community who went on to become a mid-level bureaucrat affiliated with the Israeli establishment and the Mapai party that led the country. Vrba – and others – viewed Kasztner’s actions as having saved the lives of Kasztner, his family and several hundred of his friends and associates at the possible expense of thousands of other Hungarian Jews. Vrba believed that, had ordinary Hungarian Jews been privy to the Auschwitz Protocols, as Kasztner was, they could have made their own decisions about whether to board the deportation trains.

The new monument and the unveiling ceremony were the culmination of several years of work by a group including Krell, Yosef Wosk, Geoffrey Druker, Joseph Ragaz, Arthur Dodek and Bernie Simpson, who formed a core committee advancing the project. Dodek, who emceed the Oct. 26 event, acknowledged additional contributions from the Kahn family, Ryan Davis, Marie Doduck and Jack Micner. Mayor Patrick Johnstone of New Westminster attended.

Organizers thanked the Schara Tzedeck Cemetery Board, including chairs Arnold Silber and Jack Kowarsky, and executive director Howard Jampolsky, as well as Schara Tzedeck’s Rabbi Andrew Rosenblatt.

Rosenblatt spoke of biblical and modern concepts of righteousness, citing Vrba as the definition of a hero.

“He did not escape from Auschwitz simply to save his own skin,” said the rabbi. “He escaped from Auschwitz to save Hungarian Jewry. He escaped from Auschwitz to warn the world.”

The monument, located adjacent to an area of the cemetery not yet open to burials, means that future generations who pass through mourning loved ones will have an opportunity to reflect on true heroism.

“I am struck anew by how singular his legacy was, how young he was, how hard he fought to bring the truth to the world,” said Hannah Marazzi, executive director of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre, which sponsored the ceremony. “It is a legacy of courage, brilliance, sorrow, resilience and endurance. But perhaps what I have treasured most is learning about his life and legacy from those here who have had the privilege of knowing him.”

Druker noted that the monument reflects an increased awareness of Vrba locally and hoped that the knowledge would expand beyond his hometown.

Druker read aloud the inscription, which recounts the details of Vrba’s life: his origins, his deportation to Majdanek and Auschwitz, his escape, his war heroism and his life as an academic.

“We hope that, in Israel, he will finally be recognized for what he is: a central hero that changed the course of the Holocaust for Hungarian Jews,” Druker said. “We want the world to recognize that too.”

photo - The new monument to Rudolf Vrba at Schara Tzedeck Cemetery — The new monument to Rudolf Vrba at Schara Tzedeck Cemetery. *(photo by Pat Johnson)*

Chris Friedrichs, professor emeritus of history at UBC, put Vrba in the context of his times.

“The existence of Auschwitz was no secret to those leaders,” he said. “They knew that Auschwitz was the site of a vast industrial complex where German war production was being performed by forced labour. But, as we know, this report for the first time described the actual operations of the camp in terrifying detail, making clear that Auschwitz was not only a location of industrial activity, but also the site of mass extermination of human lives on a scale that nobody had previously fully grasped.

“A huge number of Hungarian Jews had already been sent to Auschwitz, but the approximately 200,000 Jews of Budapest had not yet been deported, and it was largely thanks to this warning that the deportations were halted and the lives of most of those 200,000 Jews were saved.”

The experiences Vbra underwent at a young age, as well as his anger that his escape and the report he helped draft did not save even more lives, affected him through his life. Friedrichs, who knew Rudi and Robin Vrba, said they enjoyed a happy life in Vancouver, but the past haunted Vrba.

“For, although he could escape from Auschwitz, Rudolf Vrba could never really escape from the Shoah,” said Friedrichs. “He knew too much and he cared too much to put what he had seen behind him.… Rudolf Vrba was dedicated to relating the facts, but there was also anger, and that anger was directed not just against the Nazis, but also against Jewish leaders during the war who could not bring themselves to inform their fellow Jews about what was happening in Auschwitz. He was like a biblical prophet who had inveigled against the wilful ignorance or stubborn disbelief of those who should have known better.”

Friedrichs credits Robin, who now lives in the United States and was not able to attend the unveiling, as “not only his cherished companion for over three decades,” but with ensuring that his legacy not be forgotten.

“In fact,” said Friedrichs, “that task is a challenge for all of us. Even the Jewish community of Vancouver never fully recognized the greatness of this man and the role he had played both in saving Jewish lives and in contributing to knowledge of the Shoah.”

The monument is a belated recognition, said Friedrichs.

“What we do today is overdue, but it is not too late,” he said. “Future generations will pass by this monument and realize how proud our community should have been that this man lived and worked for 30 years in our midst. As we watch the monument being unveiled, and if we gently lay some stones upon it, we will be paying a debt of gratitude to someone who is not only a hero of the 20th century, but should continue to be an inspiration for the 21st.”

Survival in the forest

The harrowing new memoir by Vancouver’s Evelyn Kahn, They Never Left Me: A Holocaust Memoir of Maternal Courage and Triumph, written with her daughter Hodie Kahn, tells of a family’s survival while hiding in the forests of Eastern Europe.

They Never Left Me includes some of the most debasing inhumanity imaginable. Perhaps most shocking, though, is that human beings can withstand what the author and her family experienced and somehow endure and begin again in a post-Holocaust world, to raise a successful family and find meaning and happiness.

image - They Never Left Me book cover — Evelyn Kahn wrote They Never Left Me: A Holocaust Memoir of Maternal Courage and Triumph with her daughter, Hodie Kahn. On Oct. 19, at Schara Tzedeck Synagogue, Evelyn Kahn will talk about the book with Dr. Robert Krell.

Stories of Chava’s (Evelyn’s) early years, typical of traditional Eastern European Jewish shtetl life – her father’s preparations for morning prayers, her mother baking round challah for Rosh Hashanah, a live fish floating around in preparation for gefilte – read as ominously ordinary, knowing as we do a little of what is to come.

From their hometown of Eishyshok, a shtetl in Poland that historically had shifted between Lithuania, Poland and then, tragically, between the Nazis and the Soviets, the family moved a few dozen kilometres to Lida, in what is now Belarus. This relocation, an economic move driven by her father’s proficiency in the Russian language, was the least dramatic move of Chava Landsman’s young life. Nonetheless, that move might have been the first of many near-miracles that saved the lives of Chava and the women in her family.

“On the eve of Rosh Hashanah 1941, Eishyshok’s Jews were rounded up and locked in the synagogue and two schools. After three days, they were herded to the horse market.… Over the next two days, the Jews were taken in groups of 250 – first the men and then the women and children – to the old Jewish cemetery. They were ordered to undress and stand at the edge of large open ditches, where they were shot to death by Lithuanian police. Babies were bashed to death against headstones or tossed into the air for sharpshooting practice led by the chief of police, Ostrauskas, before their tiny lifeless or quivering bodies were thrown into the killing pits to join their parents. Everyone was murdered.”

The final victim of the massacre was the town rabbi, “shot after being forced to witness the murder of his entire flock.”

As the Nazis invaded Lida, the family witnessed the aerial bombardment and made the decision to flee. They headed south, and sought refuge in another shtetl, Zhetel. But this was a brief refuge – not an escape. Death was chasing them.

Chava’s father was rounded up during a cull of intelligentsia on July 23, 1941, barely a month after they arrived.

“We watched in misery as Papa climbed into the back of a truck and was driven away,” she writes. “I never saw my father again.”

Chava’s Uncle Chaim and Rivke’s husband Shael were conscripted into the Red Army, leaving the women as the only family together in the Zhetel ghetto, which was created in February 1942. Chaim was captured by the Nazis, but incredibly escaped a POW camp and returned to Zhetel, where he became a Partisan in the forest and was killed. On April 30, 1942, the first liquidation began in the Zhetel ghetto.

“My own memory of the procession along the street is of being corralled into a narrow funnel and of feeling smothered by the crush of human bodies around me,” she writes. “I remember telling my mother I could not breathe. I was worried I might pass out and be trampled. People were on top of one another – on top of me – crying and tearing their hair out. I wanted Mama to pick me up, but it was impossible. We were compressed like livestock in a cattle chute. I just held onto Mama’s hand and prayed that mine would not slip out of hers.”

In terror, Chava told her mother she was being suffocated.

“She bent down close to me and I will never forget her tearful words,” Kahn writes. “My child, it is better that you should suffocate here than my eyes should witness you being murdered.

“I took in what she said and then simply asked, ‘Does it hurt to die, Mama?’ She assured me it was a peaceful experience. ‘Neyn mayn kind, es iz vey a feygele, git a brum’ (‘No my child, it is like a chirp of a bird’).

“Her answer quieted my fears and calmed me. I was never afraid of death from that moment on. I never remember feeling despair. On the contrary, I was exceptionally calm and clear throughout the nightmare to come.”

Somehow, the women survived the first liquidation. When the second and what would be the final liquidation of the ghetto began on Aug. 6, 1942, 3,000 Jews were herded to the Jewish cemetery and murdered. Knowing what was to come, Chava’s mother Basia decided to risk going into hiding – a choice between instant death and likely later death for disobedience. Again, it was a lifesaving decision.

Basia, Chava and her grandmother (Bobe) Hoda fled to the forest. Miraculously, with the help of a non-Jewish friend of the family, they were reunited with Chava’s Aunt Rivke, and the three adult women and Chava would endure the horrors of life in the woods for two years. (Shael fought with the Red Army through the war and survived, but he and Rivke did not reunite.)

The women largely fended for themselves with some assistance from Partisans and the occasional righteous non-Jew. Like other Jews in the forests at the time, they formed fluctuating ad hoc survival “family groups” of a dozen or as many as 20 people.

“We had learned the rules of the ghetto and we had survived. Now we would have to learn the rules of the forest. And we would have to learn them very, very well and very, very quickly. We could either adapt and hopefully live or not adapt and definitely die.

“We lived with the constant nervous anticipation of being discovered and killed at any moment. We were careful to speak quietly. We were always alert. We became as hypersensitized and wary as the creatures of the forest.”

In winter, they sheltered in holes in the ground.

“Needless to say, hygiene and maintaining our health in the forest was hugely challenging,” Kahn writes. “We were malnourished and vitamin deficient. We were unwashed and unkempt. We wore the same clothes day after day with no relief. We were filthy skeletons, bulked up only by the layers of our lice-infested clothing, which we wore 24 hours a day. I often wonder how we managed to survive those two years without bathing.”

Basia’s doggedness saved her family. Even at 40 degrees below zero and with snow to her thighs, she would trudge out of the woods to beg or steal provisions from local farmers.

“It is true that many (most) farmers were unfeeling or, worse, informers. But it is important to acknowledge that there were those who hung onto their humanity during the war, righteous gentiles who were sympathetic and compassionate and gave us food and other necessities,” Kahn writes.

It is estimated that only one-half to one-third of the Jews who hid in forests survived to liberation. And, when “liberation” did come, and the Nazis were defeated, antisemitism remained. Many ordinary Russians, Poles, Lithuanians and Belarusians thought they had seen the last of the Jews and were not welcoming to the few straggling remnants who found their way back home.

The three generations of women – Bobe Hoda, mother Basia, Aunt Rivke and Chava, as well as Rivke’s baby, Joseph, who was born in and knew life only in the forest – remarkably survived and proceeded through a series of displaced persons camps, with schooling and vocational training for the young survivors. They had no family in the new state of Israel and so America seemed the more logical destination. At age 16-and-a-half, Chaya/Evelyn, her mother, aunt, cousin and grandmother were greeted at New York by the Statue of Liberty and a coterie of cousins. Eventually, Evelyn reconnected with a young man from Eishyshok, Leon (Leibke) Kaganowicz, who would become Leon Kahn and, because of American migration quotas, a Canadian who lived in Vancouver. Together, they became stalwarts of the Vancouver community.

Leon Kahn passed in 2003. His memoir, No Time To Mourn: The True Story of a Jewish Partisan Fighter, was published in 1978 and reissued in 2004. It will be released again this fall.

Evelyn has two sons, Mark and Saul, and daughter Hodie, as well as seven grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.

The idyllic start of Chava’s life, surrounded by a tight and loving family and community, juxtaposes horrifically with the abrupt cataclysm of history that would follow. The survival of three generations of women in the forests of Eastern Europe is a monument to human resolve and resilience. They Never Left Me is a momentous contribution to the literature of the Holocaust.

An event featuring Evelyn Kahn in conversation about the memoir with Dr. Robert Krell will take place on Oct. 19, 2 p.m., at Schara Tzedeck Synagogue, presented by the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre, Ronsdale Press and Schara Tzedeck.

Ruta’s Closet reissued

Lady Esther Gilbert speaking at Vancouver City Hall April 8, when Vancouver Mayor Ken Sim proclaimed Ruth Kron Sigal Day in the city. (photo by Keith Morgan)

Ruta’s Closet, the Holocaust narrative of the late Vancouverite Ruth Kron Sigal, is being reissued for a new generation of audiences – and the book’s author is ensuring the survivor’s inspiring story of survival and resilience reaches the widest possible global audience.

Vancouver journalist Keith Morgan, who completed the book shortly before Kron Sigal’s passing, at age 72 in 2008, has updated the publication – and created an extensive range of multimedia projects to expand the impact of the written volume.

First issued as a fundraising initiative for the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre, Ruta’s Closet was later published in the United Kingdom, with distribution there reaching new audiences.

The book recounts the harrowing survival story of the Kron family, imprisoned in the tiny Shavl (Šiauliai) ghetto in Lithuania, through the eyes of the youngest daughter, Ruta (later Ruth). Their survival against Nazi persecution hinged on the courage and resourcefulness of her parents, Meyer and Gita Kron, as well as the bravery of non-Jewish rescuers. Depicted with novel-like narrative power but rooted in rigorous research and eyewitness testimony, the memoir vividly portrays atrocities such as mass murder, a Nazi ban on Jewish births and the deportation of children to Auschwitz, while also shining a light on courage, compassion and human resilience amid the evil.

Kron Sigal didn’t live to see the book in print but she saw the final draft.

“She said to me shortly before she died, ‘You are going to carry on telling my story, Keith, aren’t you?’ And I said, of course I am,” Morgan told the Independent. “So, I took that on as a mission.”

Surveys indicating widespread ignorance of Holocaust history, combined with skyrocketing antisemitism, motivated Morgan to launch a series of Ruta’s Closet-related projects.

“We updated the book and decided it was time to go basically worldwide with this,” he said.

In addition to the re-release of the hard-copy, Morgan and his small team of colleagues recorded an audiobook and released an ebook. They revamped the existing Ruta’s Closet website and made it more interactive.

Working with Bill Barnes, a local radio producer, Morgan developed a 25-segment podcast.

“We are doing Zoom interviews with people around the world who are a part of a driving force behind an imaginative, creative initiative in spreading Holocaust awareness and education,” he explained. “I’ve got Ruth’s kids – Michael, Marilee and Elana – each week doing an introduction for book clubs.”

The VHEC has produced a downloadable guide for book clubs, as well as a teacher’s guide to the book, which makes it additionally relevant as British Columbia’s education curriculum mandates Holocaust education this year for the first time as part of the Social Studies 10 coursework.

“The beauty of it, for British Columbia, is it’s technically a local story,” Morgan said. “It’s about Ruth. It’s about somebody who came here and did a lot for her adopted society.”

photo - Journalist Keith Morgan, author with Ruth Kron Sigal of Kron Sigal’s memoir, Ruta’s Closet, is ensuring that her story of survival and resilience reaches the widest possible audience — Journalist Keith Morgan, author with Ruth Kron Sigal of Kron Sigal’s memoir, Ruta’s Closet, is ensuring that her story of survival and resilience reaches the widest possible audience. *(photo from Keith Morgan)*

Morgan, who spent many years as the crime reporter at the Province newspaper, met Kron Sigal when his editor asked him to take on a more uplifting assignment and begin a series about people doing good works at home and abroad.

“Somebody said, ‘Oh, you should talk to Ruth Sigal,’” who was sharing her Holocaust story with students. “I went to meet her. I was very impressed. She told her story and it had an amazing impact on me. I just knew this was an important story to tell.”

He found immediate support from Dr. Robert Krell, the founding president of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre.

“Robert Krell kind of took me under his wing – he was a close friend of Ruth – and he said, ‘I’ve got just the guy to introduce to you, who will be really helpful to you for pulling the story together.’”

The person was renowned historian Sir Martin Gilbert.

“The British schoolboy in me thought, ‘How do I curtsy?’” Morgan joked.

Morgan met Sir Martin in London and got a one-on-one master course in writing about the subject.

“He looked me right in the eye and said, ‘You have to tell the story as though you were writing it for your newspaper and make it accessible to all people,’” Morgan recalled. “Sadly, Martin died [in 2015], but Lady Esther Gilbert took up his mantle and, since then, she’s been an ally and was very important in this edition in terms of going through it, adding bits here and there.”

She spoke at a ceremony at Vancouver City Hall on April 8 this year, when the mayor proclaimed Ruth Kron Sigal Day in the city.

Kron Sigal’s story resonates profoundly with people, according to Morgan.

“We can all relate to what happened to Ruth and her sister Tamara,” he said. “It also tells us compelling stories about how, through their own devices, they basically survived and helped others along the way. We also see what other members of the family did to help the broader community.… We get this family story, which, in itself, is very dramatic, but we also get this wider picture of how a community in the ghetto work with each other, help each other.”

Morgan sees Kron Sigal’s narrative as an inspiration not only because of her survival against the Nazis but in all she did after becoming a Canadian.

“Ruth came here, an adopted country, and spent 25 years at the Women’s Resource Centre and the VHEC Child Survivors Group,” said Morgan. “That’s an example to everybody: come into a new society, an adopted country, and just roll up the sleeves and get working. Isn’t that an example to anybody that comes in?”

No less a triumph, Morgan said, is the family Ruth and her husband, Dr. Cecil Sigal, created.

“You look at that family and you think, ‘Victory!” he said. “Because they beat Hitler.”

Krieger takes on new roles

Nina Krieger, centre, member of the BC Legislative Assembly for Victoria-Swan Lake, connects with community members. Krieger is the new public safety minister and solicitor general. (photo from Nina Krieger)

After a cabinet shuffle last week, Nina Krieger, member of the legislative assembly for Victoria-Swan Lake, is the new public safety minister and solicitor general, replacing Garry Begg, who became parliamentary secretary for Surrey infrastructure.

Saying she is “humbled and excited” to take on the position, Krieger told the Independent: “Our province faces complex challenges, and I am committed to working with my colleagues, local governments, Indigenous leadership, police services, business and community organizations to build safe, healthy and resilient communities for everyone.

“Public safety is one of the central issues of our time,” she said, “and British Columbians are looking to us to strengthen public safety through effective support of our law enforcement services and working across government to address the root causes of public disorder.

“I look forward to working with partners around the province to take meaningful action to keep BC a safe place to live, work and enjoy this beautiful province we call home,” she added.

Before being elected to the Legislative Assembly of British Columbia last fall, Krieger was the executive director of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre (VHEC). She takes over her new cabinet position after having served as parliamentary secretary for arts and film. Prior to this shift in roles, she spoke with the Independent about her time in office since being sworn in.

“The role of MLA is a unique opportunity and responsibility. I don’t think anything can quite prepare you for the busy, ever-changing schedule, and the range of issues and people that you encounter on any given day,” Krieger said.

“The learning curve is steep but exciting and I’m grateful to be learning alongside other new MLAs, from veteran members of caucus and from the incredible teams behind the scenes at the BC legislature.”

Krieger describes the move from the VHEC as “bittersweet,” saying it was difficult to leave an organization and a community for which she cares deeply. Nonetheless, she said the skills, experience and values she honed during her work at VHEC have proved meaningful and timely in her current role.

“I keep in close touch with former colleagues and the Holocaust survivor community and was honoured to return to the VHEC this spring to emcee a Yom Hashoah commemorative program featuring Premier David Eby, presented in partnership with the Province of BC and the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs,” she said.

Her introduction to the legislative side of the MLA job came during the recent spring session that concluded in May. She sat in the house and committee rooms, sometimes late into the night, delivering speeches about her community and constituents’ achievements and needs, as well as debating and voting on proposed legislation.

“I was proud to deliver several statements in the house, marking days of significance for BC’s Jewish community,” said Krieger.

“This spring, government passed legislation to protect consumers, respond to the threat of tariffs and implement countermeasures, deliver more renewable energy projects and major infrastructure projects, among other work,” she said.

During the summer months, MLAs return to their communities.

“I visit and meet with local organizations to hear about the work they do and how we can spotlight and support them,” she said. “I also have the chance to attend local events as an MLA over the summer, from graduation ceremonies to festivals, markets and sports games. With so many amazing people putting on great events around town here over the summer, it adds to the fun of this role.”

As the parliamentary secretary for arts and film, Krieger worked closely with the minister of tourism, arts, culture and sport to advance the

development and growth of British Columbia’s film, television and animation sectors, as well as supporting and growing the arts and culture sectors in the province. One of the perks of that job was attending film-related events and meetings, like local film festivals.

“It has been amazing to see the talent and work coming out of BC, and rewarding to stand strong in support of workers in the face of tariff threats,” she said.

Krieger acknowledges that it is a difficult time for Jews in the province and throughout Canada, with challenges in finding their political “homes.” She is grateful that there were Jewish voters whose values aligned with those of the BC NDP.

“I know that there is work to do to ensure that Jewish people in BC feel safe and supported, and that nobody is targeted because of who they are,” Krieger said. “Combatting antisemitism – which is illiberal, toxic to democracy and dangerous – requires the work of all levels of government and civil society.”

She continues to be in active contact with Jewish constituents and community leaders in Victoria, which, she says, is home to a diverse Jewish community. Constituents from a range of backgrounds have contacted her and expressed deep concern about the toll of the ongoing Israel-Hamas war on the civilian populations of the region.

“While foreign policy is beyond my scope as a provincial representative, it is vital to discuss ways to ensure that BC is a safe and inclusive place for all people,” Krieger said. “From my work as a Holocaust educator, I know that it is vital to counter misinformation, disinformation and conspiracy theories, which can fan the flames of xenophobia, antisemitism and hate, and keep communities divided. In my work as MLA, I hope to counter this by bringing people together, modeling respectful dialogue and upholding the values of truth and trust in democratic institutions.”

Krieger explained that her experience as an anti-racism educator showed her the importance of listening and continually learning with openness and compassion. It is relevant to her current work, she believes, because she is entrusted with the stories and experiences of many constituents, which are often shared to build a more just and inclusive society.

“The province helps fund anti-racism and anti-hate work done around BC,” said Krieger, “and I have the opportunity to talk to organizers that are the recipients of grant funding and hear about their work, share experiences and learn how we can continue to collaborate to do this vital work effectively.”

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Marazzi at VHEC helm

Hannah Marazzi is the new executive director of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre. (photo by Alina Ilyasova)

The Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre, which is marking three decades of educating about and commemorating the Shoah, has a new executive director: Hannah Marazzi. She is the first person of non-Jewish background to hold the role.

Barry Dunner was the first executive director of the Vancouver Holocaust Centre Society for Education and Remembrance, the not-for-profit organization that operates the VHEC. Ronnie Tessler then helmed the centre, followed by the late Dr. Roberta Kremer, then Frieda Miller. Nina Krieger served more than a decade as head of the institution before successfully running for the British Columbia legislature last fall. (See story, jewishindependent.ca/krieger-takes-on-new-roles.)

Marazzi had been the VHEC’s director of communications and special projects for about 10 months before being appointed interim executive director. Her permanent appointment was announced on June 17, at the annual general meeting of the society.

The organization’s president, Al Szajman, credited Marazzi’s background as a good fit.

Formally announcing Marazzi’s appointment, Szajman noted her role as “Irwin Cotler’s right-hand person” and her existing relationships with partner groups like the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance, and with various foundations, government leaders and influencers locally, nationally and internationally.

“In short, we’ve come to recognize Hannah as a leader, someone with passion, vision and maturity. Her Italian-Mennonite background reminds everyone that you don’t have to be Jewish to stand against antisemitism and advance the lessons that everyone should have learned about the Shoah,” he said.

Marazzi has an undergraduate degree in history, political science and government from Trinity Western University and a master’s degree in public policy from Cambridge, where she served as an assistant editor of the Cambridge Review of International Affairs.

Early in her career, she was working on Parliament Hill when Cotler reached out to her boss, then-MP for West Vancouver-Sunshine Coast-Sea to Sky Country John Weston, to become involved in the case of a woman sentenced to death in Iran. Through the Cotler connection, Marazzi went on to help organize the Nuremberg Legal Symposium. The gathering, which was co-created by March of the Living and the Raoul Wallenberg Centre for Human Rights, in 2016, educated legal professionals and the next generation about the lessons of Nuremberg and how to apply them today, especially as the legal sector addresses hate, denial and incitement. Marazzi became administrative coordinator for the event.

She went on to work for the Cardus Institute, a Christian think tank, and then for United Nations Volunteers, in Amman, Jordan, before Cotler coaxed her to join him when he was appointed to inaugurate the office of Canada’s Special Envoy on Preserving Holocaust Remembrance and Combatting Antisemitism.

Marazzi returned to the West Coast – she grew up in the Fraser Valley – to be closer to her family when her father faced a health crisis.

Addressing the VHEC annual meeting, Marazzi paid tribute to the founders of the organization, who opened the doors to the centre 30 years ago, including Dr. Robert Krell, the founding president, who was present at the meeting.

She reflected on her first visit to Auschwitz, at age 22, 10 days after graduating from university.

“I did not know then that I would return to places like Auschwitz, Treblinka and many other sites of memory and begin learning in my own country at places like the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre,” she said. “I feel strongly in my bones that we must not allow the lessons of the Holocaust to fade from memory. As my mentor Irwin Cotler says, ‘No one can say that we did not know. We knew. But we did not act.’ This is why I believe so resolutely in the power of Holocaust education to awaken us to the reality of what happens when a society, through silence and inaction, allows evil to flourish unchecked.”

The VHEC has become Western Canada’s leading Holocaust museum dedicated to the promotion of social justice, human rights and genocide awareness. It is at a turning point in its history, as all such facilities prepare for an era when there are no longer eyewitnesses to the events who can share their narratives.

Holocaust museums have increasingly used technology to capture and immortalize those stories – and Marazzi credited Krell as a pioneer in that field, having begun one of the world’s earliest archives of video-recorded survivor testimonies, beginning when the technology was fresh.

Broader developments in the community will have a profound impact on the VHEC. The centre is slated to double in size and attain a new visibility thanks to JWest, the redevelopment of the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver, where the VHEC is located.

Marazzi emphasized the importance of partnerships in the VHEC’s success, including local connections, such as with the Roma and Rwandan communities. After the Russian invasion of Ukraine, the VHEC partnered with the University of British Columbia to bring to Vancouver

Dr. Nataliia Ivchyk – an expert on Holocaust studies in Ukraine and East-Central Europe, focusing on gender, memory politics and the experiences of Jewish children during the Holocaust – who was identified as a scholar-at-risk. At the VHEC, Ivchyk took on the Russian-Language Holocaust Testimony Project, conducting interviews with Russian-speaking survivors in the Lower Mainland.

Internationally, World Jewish Congress has reached out to borrow the centre’s current exhibit, Age of Influence, which focuses on how the Nazi regime used propaganda specifically targeted at raising and indoctrinating young Germans. Demand for this exhibit, an original VHEC creation, has led to the creation of traveling versions.

Marazzi acknowledged that, when she tells people where she works, they sometimes suggest it must be a depressing daily grind.

“It’s actually the most hopeful place you can be at this time,” she said. “You have the survivors who have experienced unimaginable horrors and yet not only are they here with us contributing to society in extraordinary ways, they are willing to dig deep into what was the worst experience of their life and share it to educate students.”

The VHEC has never been busier, she added. Hundreds of kids, teachers and adults, including elected officials and diplomats, law enforcement, groups of coworkers, unions and others, attend the exhibits every week. At national and international conferences, Marazzi has discovered this is not the case in all such institutions. Security fears and possibly other factors have seen attendance drop in many Holocaust education institutions, she said, even amid a flourishing of antisemitism and intolerance, the phenomena they are intended to address.

Marazzi credits the trajectory of success with the work that the VHEC has done for the past 30 years in creating relationships based on trust and mutual respect with other communities, school districts and educators across the province.

“We are completely inundated and it’s exhausting but it’s delightful,” she said.

The confluence of events – Marazzi’s appointment, the impending expansion of the VHEC and the global increase of antisemitism – place the organization at a moment of challenge and opportunity, said Szajman.

“The moment is – I was going to say big, but it’s huge,” he said. “In my lifetime, I’ve never seen the kind of antisemitism that I’m witnessing now. It sounds horrible, but I’m glad my father, a Holocaust survivor who passed away a few years ago, doesn’t have to see it. I think there’s been a very overt and visible right-wing antisemitism for decades. What we’ve witnessed over the last few years in particular is this explosion of left-wing antisemitism, sometimes overt, sometimes veiled – and thinly veiled at that.”

The organization’s work has never been more important, he said.

While the eventually expanded VHEC will accommodate more visitors, Szajman noted that the centre has always reached beyond its walls, going to audiences where they are – both in-person and through virtual technologies even before these became everyday tools during COVID.

Szajman used to call the VHEC “the little engine that could.”

That’s not true, though, he said.

“It’s the little engine that does. It’s remarkable. This tiny little group of people who bust their butts every day putting in incredible hours, are so committed, including not just Jewish staff. It’s non-Jewish staff, too, that are so committed to this that, as a board member and as president, I couldn’t be any more motivated if you paid me,” he said, adding with a trademark laugh: “And they don’t.”

Editor’s note: This article is different than the print version that ran July 25, 2025, to reflect more fully the list of executive directors who helmed the VHEC.

New podcast launched

On International Holocaust Remembrance Day, Jan. 27, the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre (VHEC) and the Walrus Lab launched The Hidden Holocaust Papers: Survival. Exile. Return. The six-part documentary podcast, hosted by best-selling Canadian author Timothy Taylor, offers a personal exploration of his family’s hidden Holocaust history.

Through the series, VHEC furthers its mission of Holocaust education and remembrance by supporting stories that bring the realities of the Holocaust to new audiences. Taylor’s journey of discovery is not only an act of personal reconciliation but also a vital contribution to preserving the memory of Holocaust victims and survivors for future generations.

As Taylor unpacks long-forgotten family archives, the series takes listeners on an emotional journey from his home in Vancouver to Germany, revealing a tapestry of stories about survival, resilience and loss. Alongside his search for answers, Taylor reflects on the universal lessons of justice, remembrance and identity in the face of historical atrocities.

“The Holocaust isn’t just a chapter in history – it’s a call to action to remember, educate and prevent future acts of hatred and genocide,” said Hannah Marazzi, acting executive director of VHEC. “We are honoured to work with Timothy Taylor to amplify his family’s story and underscore the importance of safeguarding these narratives.”

In conjunction with the podcast, Taylor’s accompanying feature article, “Paper Trail,” will be published in The Walrus in May; it was made available online on Jan. 27. The article is an account of Taylor’s journey to instal Stolpersteine memorial stones for his family members who suffered under Nazi persecution.

For more information and to listen to the trailer, visit lnkfi.re/thehiddenholocaustpapers.

– Courtesy Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre