Rubin Pantofel

I was born Rubin Pantofel on May 11, 1919 in Czestochowa, Poland. As far as I remember, my extended family numbered around 80 people. My immediate family was comprised of my mother, Helena, my father, Alex, my older brother, Abraham, and my younger sister Lipka. When the war was over, I was the only surviving member of my dear family.

My father was the only male born to Abraham and Chava. His six sisters were Hendl, Perl, Rivka, Sosia, Dwojra, and Esther. A Jewish pickpocket killed Grandpa Abraham at a young age. This made it very hard for my bubba Chava and her youngest daughter who had to live on their own sweat and toll.

My mother was the only female born to Berl and Chaja Gwozdz. As I recall, Grandpa Berl slaved on his farm. My mother’s brothers were named Abraham, Ichak, Alter and Alex.

At home we spoke Yiddish and Polish.

I went to preschool until the age of six and then attended a public school for Jewish children only. I graduated 7^th grade and went on to take evening classes for another two years. During that time I studied Metallurgy as I was preparing for military service. I was also learning to design “uppers” for ladies shoes. Shoes were designed as either “uppers” the leather part, or the bottoms. Uppers was considered more prestigious.

As a teenager I was chosen to sing in my synagogue chorus. I also was a member of our Maccabee sports club where I boxed as a featherweight. There were many sports clubs and we competed with each other during happier days.

I spent my youth in happiness with my darling parents and siblings and my heart cries when I write about my memories of them.

When Germany invaded Poland on September 1, 1939 I was in Czestochowa with my family. My brother who had studied engineering agronomy in Bialystock, through ORT, ended up in the Polish army. After Poland’s surrender, he took on the identity of a Pole and called himself Adam, because Jewish soldiers were sent to Germany as slave laborers.

My parents, sister and I started walking to Warsaw but on September 3^rd walked back to our town. A pogram was organized in which hundreds of Jews were murdered. That day was remembered as bloody Monday. On September 16^th, a judenrat was established by order of the Germans. This began several years of forced labor for me in one manner or another. Whether dispatched by the Judenrat to dismantle miles of barbed wire in knee high snow or forced by the Germans to regulate the banks of the River Wartas, or forced to build a road for the Germans who were then preparing for war with Russia or making ladies “uppers” for a German shoe company- that as all before I was forced to live in the ghetto.

The Ghetto was established on April 9. 1941. It was sealed on August 23^rd. The population suffered overcrowding, hunger and epidemics. On September 23, 1942, on Yom Kippur, a large scale action had begun. I witnesses Jews rounded up leaving the steibel in their kittles. The next day I was taken to HASAG, a forced labor camp and munitions factory. By October 1942, about 39000 people had been deported to Treblinka to face extermination. About 2000 were executed on the spot just because they were elderly and couldn’t move fast enough for this transport. My grandmother Chaja was among those.

I last saw my father and brother on the selection line. I was told to go to the left. My brother was given the other direction and I heard him plead with the officer that he wanted to follow me. I heard a big crack. Later I found out that he was hit on the head. I never saw my brother and father again. I saw my mother’s shoes in a pile of shoes never again to be worn by their owners. I later learned from my friend Abraham Bamba, a barber at Treblinka and later featured in the documentary Shoah that he saw my sister’s head being shaved as was the custom before being gassed.

I worked in HASAG from 1942 until January 1945. The Russians liberated me. When I made my way back to my city, Poles still wondered that there were so many Jews left.

I have never returned to Poland. From Poland I went to Vienna and then on to Munich. I went from Munich to Breman seaport. There I had to spend 30 days because the crewman were on strike. There was so little food in Breman at the time that it felt like a year. I couldn’t wait to leave German soil.

I finally boarded the ship with my wife, Frances on May 31, 1947. It was called the Marin Merlin. It was a transport ship and trust me, people on the ship though the voyage was so hard and rough that they would die on the way over. We sailed for seven days to our new life of freedom and opportunity. I landed on June 7, 1947 in New York Harbor.

HIAS- The Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society registered this country that came before the war and they sponsored my wife and me to come. In those days you had to have relatives who pledged to care for your financially if necessary so that you would not be a burden to this country. I came with $25 and no English.

I stayed with my aunt’s family for one week. Then my wife and I moved and rented a room from an elderly lady in the South Bronx. We had kitchen privileges in her apartment.

I learned interior decorating and went to night school with my wife so that we could learn English and become US citizens. I became a naturalized citizen in 1952. I worked very hard – two jobs in the beginning. But with hard work came the satisfaction of independence.

Also came the satisfaction of my daughters Harriet Schleifer and Helen Kaminski and their darling husbands and children, my grandchildren. Harriet and Helene are my two eyes.

I lost my dear wife on October 8, 1973. She also suffered through the war in HASAG with one brother who ultimately survived, but lost five brothers and her mother in Treblinka. She last saw her mother on the selection line where they squeezed hands never to see one another again.

This brief window into my experiences as a survivor merely skims the surface. The detailed realities would perhaps be too graphic for this audience to bear. And how can one fully chronicle those horrors in less than a full length book. Or even that.

Suffice to say, that the pictures remain etched into my mind and vivid in my dreams. But when I open my eyes, I see my children and I still have Judaism to cling to. Just let me make the plea to never forget. Keep a Jewish voice alive.

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Romek Pantofel immediately after the war

Franka Wolman (Frances Partel) with a group of her friends in Poland (2nd row, 3rd from the right)

Rubin Partel (on the left), standing next to his aunt Ester Yellen who sponsored Rubins as he immigrated to the U.S. Rifka Kaplin (another aunt) is picttured standing on the right

Rubin and Frances Partel (on the right) with Rubin's 1st cousin Abram and Margit Windman (on the left)

Frances Partel 27 years old (1957)

Board of Education certificate recognizing Rubin's successfully completion of night school classes

Permit allowing the Partels to land in Australia. The family originally planned to go to Australia but found that restrictions would not have allowed Frances's brother to join them.