Beate Goldman

I was born in 1921 in a small town in Germany called Zella Melis. My father was a World War I soldier, an exceptional one who received many awards for his achievements, such as the Iron Cross for work in battle. During the war, he worked in a cavalry with horses and he kept a poster-sized picture of his horse in our home. He and my mother were conservative Jews, which meant keeping a kosher home, observing the high holidays, and working the store’s hours that they owned around Shabbos and the holidays. Their store was a men’s wear shop, which was run primarily by my mother, as my father’s learned trade was a tailor. Over the years they built up the business and made quite a bit of money.

In Zella Melis we were one of the five Jewish families. I was the only Jewish child in my school. However, my family did have a lot of friends, the majority of which were indeed gentiles. I got along with everyone in school, still had four very good girlfriends, up until about 1933, when I was 12 years old. My education up to that point has been relatively normal; four years in elementary school, then about three and a half in middle school. But after that, I was asked to leave. That was when everything slowly began to change. Those four gentile friends and everyone else had suddenly from one day to the next, stopped speaking and playing with me. I was not allowed to attend classes with my fellow students during the times that they had religious instructions and even my parents lost friends as many of theirs were professionals who would have lost their jobs if they had been seen talking to a Jew.

At this same time, because there weren’t many Jews in my village, my parents had begun to send me to Hebrew school in the nearby town of Suhl. I took the train twice a week to get to the same synagogue that my family and I went to on the holidays. There, I began to make friends who were also Jewish. I stayed friendly with these people, but back home, I was not allowed to go to school anymore. One of my teachers and his wife had to come to my house and tutor me. Because of all of this, it was very lonely. May parents were also busy with the store and business and to keep me occupied I took lesson sin the mandolin and worked in our store as a sales girl.

Despite my parents hopes, the situation at home didn’t get any better. They had been wishing along with many other Jews that Hitler would not last but alas he was there. Because of this, the SA was constantly boycotting Jewish stores, including my dads. Many people paraded in front of the store for day son end carrying large signs saying “Do not buy from Jews.” But at the end of the day, all he had to do was take them into his office where he would show them all of his war achievements and offer them coffee.

By 1937 I had the dream of going to Israel. But my parents had other ideas. While they were trying to apply for a visa to get out of the country, they sent me to a boarding school in Frankfort where I would learn housekeeping tasks. While I did not care for the curriculum I loved being with the other kids. All I had to do was eat, sleep and have fun and some of the friendships that I made lasted a lifetime.

Back at home, my parents decided to sell their house and business to move to Frankfurt. They would have preferred to leave Germany all together but by that time it was too late- they had waited too long to register for the visa. For some reason I supposed they thought buying another house in a large city would help. I did not understand their logic, but I was not asked my opinion. I assumed that my parents just had to do whatever they thought was best.

So after a year in finishing school, I moved back in with my parents in our new apartment house. Not knowing what to do next, they suggested I learn dress-making. My life at that time was relatively routine and I had a few girlfriends, and it was mostly leisure time. So I became an apprentice to a dress-maker with hopes that one day I could help my father tailor in America. My family was still very optimistic about leaving so they began to prepare to send a lift for all of our belongings. They bought me a new sewing machine, new dresses, anything to prepare for the departure. But they were never called to leave.

My father had suffered from bladder troubles and in early November he was taken to the hospital for emergency surgery. Shortly after that on November 9, two men dressed entirely in black raided our apartment and announced that they were taking my dad away, despite him being hardly conscious. Fortunately, at that moment, the attending Doctor entered the room and convinced the SS men to let my dad stay which they did. I do not remember the fires, the looting, and the destruction that occurred over Kristallnacht.

After that night, my parents were ready to let me go away. In early 1939, a relative of mine named Erma Goldman who had immigrated a few months earlier to London with her husband offered to get me a job in England. So in August, I said goodbye to my parents with feelings of newfound independence and excitement that I had never before felt. I carried my one suitcase, minimal money and boarded the plane. This was the last time I ever saw my parents. Little did I realized what was waiting for me in England.

My first job was for an elderly couple that lived in a small village. My job consisted of usual maid like duties. I had to cook porridge for breakfast and serve it to them in bed, and other light chores. I do not remember much, but I do recall being very homesick.

After the elderly couple came a nanny job for a young family with small children. We lived in a very nice house with all modern appliances yet I was still unhappy. I had to scrub floors and chop wood outside, later giving me a terrible case of frostbite. So, after a few months of this, I had to leave. The parents of a friend of mine were living in London, and invited me to stay with them, provided I slept on a trundle bed in the kitchen. My stay there was absolute heaven, and I got a job I actually enjoyed, with a woman who made artificial flowers as well as leather gloves. I kept this job until I departed for the United States in 1940, on a shop called Samaria.

The trip to America lasted about 10 days. I was forced to wear a lifejacket at all times and to share a tiny cabin with four other women. When we were very close to our final destination we passed the statue of liberty. It was the most memorable moment of the trip. When I stepped off the boat my aunt and cousin waited for me and took me back to their home in Brooklyn Heights. My uncle Herbert, his wife Erna and their two daughters Herta and Lora shared a two bedroom apartment and they were living comfortably. My uncle was very strict, always counting pennies. They did not exactly welcome me because according to my uncle they had to feed another person. As soon as I was settled in my uncle gave me a nickel for the subway and the New York times wanted ads for work and labor and told me to find a job.

I had learned a little English in London so it was not too difficult to come upon my job of a swing machine operator. My goal was to earn as much money as possible so as to be able to send for my parents back in Germany. I was trained to be a professional dressmaker, but at this job I was merely a factory piece worker. I joined a union and worked hard at my job and was able to support myself.

After a few months at this job, I heard about a job as a chambermaid at an adult summer camp in Milford, Connecticut. This meant getting away from NY and earning more money from tips. The chambermaids there were all refugees like I was, and the guests at the camp treated us nicely. From this job, I earned $500 which was still a lot of money but not enough to send for my parents. I hadn’t heard a lot form them and the mail which I did get, I could tell has been censored.

While I was still living with my uncle, after the camp, I met a soldier and we soon started dating. After a few weeks, we got engaged, although I really didn’t know him that well. For me, it was an easy way to get away from my relatives. However, during this time I found a different way out. I know of a family looking for a boarder, as they currently had an empty room because their son was in the army. This was a great way to get away from my overprotective family without having to get married. The only promise that I made with the family when I moved in was that I would have to move back out as soon as their son returned from war.

Well by the time I moved in, the son was back, but my landlords had become my adopted parents and would not hear of me leaving. So I shared the bedroom with my new brothers. It seemed like I had found a substitute family for after Pearl Harbor all mail had stopped and I didn’t hear from my parents again. It was later that I found out that my parents along with nine other families perished in concentration camps.

So I was really enjoying living with my new family. One day my “brothers” suggested that we go skiing in the Berkshires. Henry their friend had been recently discharged form the army and ran the ski club so he had suggested that we all take the trip. While I liked Henry I had a date a tall dark and handsome fellow whose name I can’t recall. I should add however, that I had not skied in about ten years but my date said that he skied very well. The following Saturday morning I took the subway to Columbus circle carrying my skis. If my memory serves me right, we skied at Catamount. I made it to the top of the hill fine but coming down was another story. And I soon as I found out my date was no better skier than me. Luckily Henry was there and he got us down from the mountain. That night I spent a lot more time with Henry than my date. Henry and I had a very short courtship. We met in February and were engaged by May. In October 1947, we were married at his friends apartment in Forrest hiIls. With 12 guest crammed into a tiny home. Later we honeymooned in the Poconos.