Kristallnacht Memories of Harry Rosenberg
November 8, 2010
On the morning of Nov 11, I heard a lot of shouting in our apartment. It was between our father and the brownshirts. The Nazis wanted to take our grandmother, in whose house we were living, with them and my father didn’t want them to. He won the argument. At the collection point, he showed the head Nazi his WW 1 medals and he was released, together with my mother.
The next day, he went to his office, and found in the mail, his passport, which he had sent to the UK consulate in Munich to get his visa renewed. That night, he took the train to St. Gall, where he had friends and relatives, and made arrangements for Edgar and me to live in the French speaking part of Switzerland.
My mother then tried to get passports for herself, Edgar and me. The police chief, Kandel, gave her a hard time; they wanted my father to come back. He told me afterwards, that if the Nazis had gotten a hold of him, they would have killed him. Finally, in March ‘39, Edgar and I got our passports.
Edgar stayed with a German speaking Jewish family. I stayed with a Catholic widow, a wonderful person. She didn’t speak any German, I didn’t speak any French, but we got along wonderfully. After I got married, I took Daisy to meet her. They got along greatly, after all, they loved the same person, me. In June, my mother and grandmother got their passports and we all met in Zurich.
My father took his mother to a retirement home near Zurich. He never saw her again, but my cousin, her other grandson visited her when he was in the Army stationed in Germany. The rest of us flew to Antwerp, with a stopover in Paris. In Antwerp, we picked up the Claus Horn, and you know the rest. The place where Edgar and I stayed to learn French was Montreux.
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