A DREAM COME TRUE

PART I: GETTING STARTED

I have dreamt of visiting Germany since I began working on the Kissinger family tree about thirteen years ago.

Each year there was always a good reason why it wouldn’t happen just yet. Either the time or the money or the kids are too young or whatever. This year I was not going to take no for an answer. When I was “bumped” last summer from a Lufthansa flight home from the States and they offered me a free ticket and I knew immediately what I’d use it for.

I decided to make it a “mother-daughter-quality-time” trip. Just the two of us. Good choice.

I started planning the trip a few months before we left. Partly because I wanted to use the time there as best as possible and partly because I was so excited that I couldn’t think of anything else anyway!

I sought out someone in each town that could help. For those places where I didn’t have any contacts and I just called the municipal tourist office. They were always helpful. In some towns I knew someone or of someone and contacted them. For instance, I contacted Ms. Cordula Kappner, an extraordinary woman, who has dedicated her life to documenting the Jewish history of the Ermershausen (Bavaria) area.

From the moment she heard that we were coming, she started organizing things for us. She found us a phenomenal flat in Unfinden, a small village not far from Hassfurt, in an old farm house built in the 1500s. At left, the village of Unfinden.

After flying into Munich, we rented a car and began our official roots trip. We drove directly to Hassfurt passing many towns we had heard about along the way. Ingolstadt, Nurenberg, Furth, Bamberg, Hausen… These were all towns that were either represented in our family tree or that I’d read so much about in the German Jewish genealogy forum on Jewishgen. It was so exciting for me as the years of research suddenly moved from the paper to real life. These places were right in front of me. Oh my god!

After arriving to Cordulla’s apartment in Hassfurt, we spent the evening and into the night, talking, looking at photographs, telling stories… I think we finally went to our apartment around midnight. We couldn’t stop until we just couldn’t continue!! The trip back in history had begun.

The next day would be our first visit to the village of Ermershausen.

PART II: ERMERSHAUSEN

Ermershausen was the home of David Kissinger, my great-great grandfather. He was the teacher for the Jewish community and the Rabbi. Everyone in town called him Lehrer Kissinger and everyone knew him.  His children were all born there (Louis, Ida, Fanny, Karl, Selma, Arno and a daughter, Jeanette, who died young of pneumonia).  All the kids eventually left Ermershausen except Fanny, who stayed in Ermershausen marrying Jakob Rau.  David’s wife, Lina geb. Zeilberger, was born in Ermershausen. The Zeilberger and the Rau families were among the bigger Jewish families in Ermershausen.

Our first stop in Ermershausen was the city hall.  The mayor greeted us and a local reporter came to interview us.  They were prepared for our visit. The local archivist had brought out all the materials they had on our family and they showed us the ID cards that had remained in the town after the Jews were taken by the Nazis.  Here are the cards for Fanny and Jakob Rau.

Then it was on to the cemetery.  The only Kissinger buried there is Lina Zeilberger Kissinger. Here my mother stands next to the grave of her great grandmother. It sent shivers down my spine.

We then visited the old synagogue/school house/home of David Kissinger (Lina’s husband and my great-great-grandfather).  When we knocked on the door, the new owner, a young woman with bright red hair and lots of tattoos opened the door. She did not want us to come in the house but explained that it is now divided into four apartments and therefore is nothing like it used to be. I wonder what David Kissinger would say if he could see who’s living in his synagogue today!

The Synagogue was not destroyed in the war.  The Nazis broke all the windows but did not burn the house and so it stands until today.  For years after the family left the house, the townspeople left the building as it was - broken windows and all.  They did not want anyone to move into the old synagogue.  Only years later they decided to fix it up again and a family moved in.

Across the street lived Kusel Zeilberger.  His house still shows his name and the date 1879 when her built the house. 

The family that lives there now is the same family that bought the house from the Zeilbergers.  They invited us into their home for out-of-this-world delicious homemade cake and a trip down memory lane.

Frau Franz, now quite elderly, remembered our family well.  She got very teary eyed as I told her that Fanny Kissinger Rau’s daughter, Linchen, is alive and well in New York.  She told us many stories about the family - how they snuck eggs and butter to the Raus in the middle of the night, how Jacob Rau used to help her father with the cows when the Nazis had forbidden Jews to work, how close her parents were to the Raus and how much they loved them, how Fanny Rau was always very scared of the situation and was afraid to even leave the house.  She emphasized how she often thought of Fanny and how especially awful this time was for Fanny as she was always so fearful. [Fanny was later deported from Ermershausen and killed.] This was only the first of many encounters with people who knew the family; people who had tried to help the family. (And by the way, most of these stories were substantiated by family members after the trip.)

Behind the Franz home is the old Zeilberger butcher shop.  It remains today as it was then: same paint, same flooring, same tiles. The Franz’ son is a painter and carefully paints the building each year as it was originally. Just like the name and date on their home, they want to preserve the memory of the family that once lived there.

This was just the first visit on our tour but we had already learned a lot about how life was for the Jews in Bavaria - particularly in small villages.  It was very different from how I had imagined it and it helped shed light on some of the missing pieces of the puzzle.

PART III: NUREMBERG

On the second day we drove back down to Nuremberg, about an hour drive. The roads in Germany are so easy to travel. Not only is the speed limit unlimited, but the drivers are courteous, the roads are in perfect condition and everything is clearly marked so you can’t really get lost.

After a lovely lunch in Schwaig with cousins who still live in Germany, we headed out for a personally guided tour of Nuremberg. Tessie, the pup even came along for the ride. I was surprised to see how many Germans take their dogs everywhere. The canines seem to be welcome everywhere – restaurants, hotels, anywhere their “parents” want to take them.)

The city is lovely. We drove around for a while taking it all in. We saw the old city wall and the famous locations that Hitler gave speeches… ironically not too far from Yitzhak Rabin Strasse. We walked along the waterway, old and new architecture blending together throughout the city. The cleanliness of the city was striking.

Our ultimate destination was Hochstrasse. We were invited to the home of the Schlehlein family. This is an interesting story.

Michaela and Cornelius Schlehlein live in the home that once belonged to our relative, Daniel Kissinger. They bought the apartment on Hochstrasse a few years ago. As they began their repairs and remodeling, they discovered murals on the ceiling. They decided to do some research about the family that lived in that house years before and that is how they discovered that it belonged to Daniel K. They did extensive research on Daniel and his family. Apparently, Daniel Kissinger built that house and was the first to live there from the time it was built until he died. Michaela and Cornelius have taken special measures to restore the original fixtures, the beautiful trimming around the ceiling, the murals and a beautiful wood floor.

Above is a photo of my mother in the front hall of the building. The walls are painted in the original design that Daniel painted or had painted so many years ago. Today the house is considered a historic building in the town. Also, when the top layers of paint were removed from the front door, a Star of David was uncovered, apparently scratched into the door by Germans to denote that Jews live in this house.

Michaela and Cornelius were very emotional about the history of the house and, of course, the history of the Jews in Germany. Our visit with them was so touching and there is no doubt that they have now become part of the Kissinger family. They cried as they told us how ashamed they were that their people could do such a thing. Two generations had passed and yet it still haunts those that were not even there at the time.

Above: Detail around the ceiling

Left: Hochstrasse 22

It was a fabulous day and my mom and I couldn’t stop raving about it all the way back to our flat. Already filled with exciting experiences, we still had much more to see. The next day we would be off in another direction to Mainstockheim, Kitzingen and Roedelsee…. Where my grandmother grew up…

PART IV: Mainstockheim, Kitzingen and Roedelsee

You know the joke about the little towns in America, “blink and you’ll miss it”? Well, Mainstockheim is something like that. It’s a little village built on the hillside with two or three “main” streets and some small one-car-wide streets connecting between them.

Reaching Mainstockheim was a bit more difficult than the other villages we visited. We knew where it was supposed to be but there weren’t many signs directing us there because it is such a small village. With the help of people we passed in neighboring villages, we made it to the Main River and the ferry that crosses into Mainstockheim.

Now when I say ferry, you may be picturing what I would normally consider to be a ferry. Scratch that. Now picture what Huckleberry Finn rode down the river…

Much to my fear and anxiety, we pulled onto a 3-vehicle wooden ferry that would bring us across the river. Fortunately it took no more than a minute to get across!

Once in Mainstockheim we drove around the village exploring. We covered the entire village in about 5 minutes. The top of the hill had new homes – mostly 1950s-60s style homes – probably with owners who moved there from the east. Really nothing special, to tell you the truth. Even a bit disappointing compared to all the beautiful villages we had seen until now.

We headed down to the main street, the Haupstrasse, and the older part of the village. It was Sunday and there was not a soul in sight. I mean NOBODY.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, we saw an old man walking down the street and stopped to ask him where the old synagogue is located. We explained that Grandma grew up in the Synagogue building; her father was the town Rabbi and teacher (Seigbert Friedmann). He showed us how to get there, just a couple of streets from where we stood.

We drove up the small street to the synagogue. Today the synagogue is a church. Before we knew it the old man was there too. He was very enthusiastic to talk to us. He stood very close to my mother, pointing at her as he talked. He remembered all of “them”… The Friedmanns, the Lomnitzs, Sterns, Rindsbergs….. He kept talking about the old Lomnitz, Aunt Carole’s father, and how he always had chewing tobacco in his mouth that would leave traces in his beard. He told us who got the houses of the Jews when they left.

He also explained to us that every Sunday for years he has played cards with a group of friends. This Sunday, for some strange reason and for the first time, the game was cancelled. I think that it was meant to be. He had to be there to meet us.

We pulled out an old photograph to show him of Grandma’s brother, Manfred, taken in Mainstockheim. He got excited. He remembered him and pointed out that the photograph was taken in the exact location where we stood.

We called my grandmother from in front of her house. That was as close as she could get to being there. She was thrilled. I was ready to cry.

The old man continued to tell us how the synagogue survived the war. There were lots of Nazis in town including a Nazi who lived across the street. They decided not to burn the synagogue down so that they wouldn’t endanger the Nazi neighbor’s house too. Instead, they broke the windows and ruined the inside.

Soon after hearing the story, a young man came out of the house nearby. He came to meet us not knowing who we were. He was the grandson of that Nazi neighbor. Choked up he explained that indeed his grandfather was a Nazi. He said that after the war he was punished for what he did. Who knows what that means.

There was not much more to see in Mainstockheim so we made our way down the main street towards Kitzingen. We passed what used to be the Jewish schoolhouse (where my great-grandfather taught for years), homes of people we knew (many now remodeled, modern and totally different from the original house, and the beautiful vineyards that covered the hillside.

Kitzingen was the closest “city”, maybe a kilometer from Mainstockheim. My grandmother had told me that she went to school in Kitzingen. Even now, the first building as you enter the town is the Hohrer Tochter Schule (left). As Grandma says, “a school only for girls from the best families”. (left: the school today) Just beyond the school is the center of town. To its left, the Main river.

We parked the car and took a walk around the city. As much as Mainstockheim was dull, Kitzingen was alive, lots of visitors walking the streets, beautiful old buildings… The center of town was a pedestrian shopping street with the Rathaus (the town hall) in the center – see photo above right.

Not too far down the street, alongside the river, is the old synagogue. Again, different from Mainstockheim, this synagogue was beautifully renovated. The story has it that when the city requested funds to redo the town after the war, the condition they were given to getting the necessary funds was that they also redo the synagogue. (Photo above left)

Another difference in this city is the presence of English. While we hardly saw or heard English anywhere in our travels, many of the signs in Kitzingen were in English and all of the clients at the coffee shop we stopped at were English speakers. There is an American base nearby.

We met up with Michael Shneeberger, the local Jewish historian in Kitzingen. His apartment is covered from top to bottom in books on Judaism, Jews in Germany, genealogy and such. He holds one of the three keys to the Roedelsee regional Jewish cemetery. Together we set off to visit the gravesites of many of our Kissinger family ancestors.

Roedelsee is also just a skip and a jump from Kitzingen. A charming village, the cemetery sits on the outskirts, beyond the wheat fields. I was anxious to start looking for the stones of the first generations of Kissingers. According to the cemetery lists, we know that Abraham Kissinger (my ggggrandfather) and his wife are buried there. They were in a special section for the “Chevre Kaddisha”, the first few rows in the old section. Interesting enough, this cemetery was arranged by rows – men, women, men, women. In order to keep couples together, the wife or the husband, whoever died second, would have been buried at the end of the row that the partner was in. We were also told that couples that didn’t get along in life were not buried together so that they wouldn’t fight in the afterlife!

Unfortunately, we did not find the exact graves of any of the family members. As you can see in the photo, the cemetery is open to the elements, not a tree to protect the stones from the wind, sun, rain and snow. In another town, someone explained to us that the stones, made from sand stone, become cracked as they get older. Moisture gets into the cracks and then, when the water freezes in the winter, the stone basically bursts, dropping off parts of the headstone. Hardly a stone in the cemetery – certainly not in the older sections – is left undamaged. For many of the stones the entire face of the stone has come off and there is no longer any sign as to who the stone belongs to. The only thing we have remaining is the burial list which gives us an idea of approximately which row the people are in and possibly next to whom. The children’s section is in the worst condition and there is no listing for young children on the burial lists.

This was probably the most emotional experience of all. My ancestors remained there in that field, nobody knowing where exactly, nobody left around to care.

Ahhh, another eventful day had passed. On one hand I was exhausted from the enormity of all we’d seen and felt, on the other hand I was energized by what it all meant to me and how much more there remained to see. Tomorrow it was off to Bad Kissingen were the Kissinger name was “born”.

PART IV: BAD KISSINGEN

Bad Kissingen was the final visit on the Kissinger side of our trip. In a way, it was like saving the best for last. Bad Kissingen was an absolutely gorgeous city. While it was perhaps a bit less emotional for me because my branch of the family had left there in the early 1800s, my stomach had butterflies at seeing the home of the Kissinger name. The starting point of all my research. The place where that famous “guy-from-the-1760s-who-had-two-wives” lived… the one I always refer to when I’m trying to explain my connection to the other half of the Kissinger family.

This is the split in the tree. The first side of Meyer Loeb’s family (from his first wife) stayed in Bad Kissingen for a while until they eventually moved on to Nuremberg, Kaiserslautern, etc. Meyer Loeb himself (1767-1838), the one to take on the Kissinger name in 1813, together with his new wife (his first wife’s younger sister) and oldest son (who never married), moved on to Roedelsee where we had just visited. (Ten more children were born in Roedelsee.)

We had arranged to meet a local historian at the Bad Kissingen Jewish cemetery. The cemetery is just as you come into town and is easy to find. Just after the Saint Elizabeth Hospital. No relation.

I had received the historian’s name through the Bad Kissingen tourist department which I had called a month or so earlier as I arranged the trip. She was wonderful. She was so excited that we were coming that she spent days before we arrived in the Bad Kissingen archive looking up information about the family. I had sent her a shortened tree, including only the relevant people, and she verified all the information I had.

The Bad Kissingen Cemetery was the best kept of all cemeteries we saw. The grass was mown and the stones were in relatively good condition. Apparently, Bad Kissingen has a lot of Jewish tourists and that may be one of the reasons they keep it so nice. (By the way, Bad Kissingen has one of the only kosher hotels in the country. Not that we stayed there but I thought that that was interesting.)

Wandering through the cemetery, we found lots of graves with familiar names. The grave of Loeb Kissinger (father of the branch of the family from the first wife!) was in very good condition. (He died in 1887.) I was surprised to find that the Hebrew stone set into the marker was upside down!

It was exciting for me to see other names that I’d heard so many times such as Fromm, Felsenheld, Stahl, Schwed and many more.

From the cemetery, we drove into town. The historian had arranged for us to spend the day with Frau Hilla Schuetze and Hans-Juergen Beck. Hilla works for the city of Bad Kissingen and she took time out of her busy schedule to spend the day with us. The town was in the midst of the opening of their summer fest, “Kissinger Sommer”, and Hilla had a central role in the whole affair. Every year they chose a different theme. This year it was music from Russia and the entire city was decorated according to that theme.

Hans-Jurgen is the author of a book called “Judisches Leben in Bad Kissingen”. He is a high school teacher who also spends a great deal of time keeping the Jewish history of Bad Kissingen alive. His book, published in 1990, has been made into a fabulous exhibit in the Bad Kissingen Jewish Community House. The house stands behind where the Synagogue used to stand.

At left is the part of the exhibit that tells about the Kissinger family. The poster shows the old Kissinger homes and businesses, some of the old residents of Bad Kissingen and the section of the family tree that relates to those former residents.

I will not go into detail about every step we took in the city but rather a few points that stand out in my memory.

First, as I mentioned, the beauty and charm of the city. I can understand why people go there each year. Clean, colorful, inviting… Shops, glorious hotels where even Ludwig used to stay, coffee shops on the main drag…

Second, this was the town where I most felt the effect of the Nazis and the war. Perhaps it was because of the stories I heard and the way they were told. Perhaps bigger towns were affected differently from the small villages. I don’t know. I still keep thinking how the people of such an extraordinarily peaceful and beautiful place could have been so cruel and uncaring.

For instance, the story of the synagogue. There once stood an exquisite synagogue in BK. It was the second synagogue built in town. The first was torn down purposely in order to build the “Neue Synagogue”, a building to be proud of. The inside of the Neue Synagogue was set on fire and destroyed during Kristallnacht, that was not enough for the residents. In 1939 it was demolished by the order of the town council. They actually paid to have the building torn down so that there would be no remains of the Jewish holy building.

The plaque above shows the synagogue before the war. The only remains in its place are the two huge trees that once stood in front of the building and this plaque of the synagogue made many years later.

We heard other stories about Jewish families who owned stores and used to provide warm clothes each winter for the poor Catholic children. Little did that matter in the end.

Third, perhaps because of what I just described, I felt that this was also the town that was doing the most to preserve the Jewish memory. The permanent exhibit, books written on the subject, public dialogues, the well-kept Jewish cemetery, Christian-Judeo study groups, their exceptionally warm welcome, etc. The guilt, and perhaps as one young German describes it, the strong responsibility that they feel that this should not happen again. At least among those we spoke with.

From the tourist angle, there was much to see in Bad Kissingen including its main attraction, the koors. The healthy spring water is served in the Koors building. A huge hall – called the walking hall – leads to the springs and a bar where bar maids in traditional dress pour the drink from cup to cup before serving it to the visitors. The water is salty and not very tasty (I was not brave enough to try it) and people walk the hall as they sip their drink. Hence the name.

At the entrance, there is a hugs orchestra stage that can swivel to face indoors or outdoors, enabling performances to guests inside and out. I can just picture the crowds almost a hundred years ago as they came from all over to this Garden of Eden, seeking health and happiness. Above, my grandmother dances with her cousin on the balcony of a Bad Kissingen hotel around 1930. Her grandfather used to take my grandmother by train to Bad Kissingen for a month every summer.

So, the good with the bad, our day in Bad Kissingen was fabulous. Exhausted, we headed from there to Hessen. We had packed up our bags that morning from our rented flat in Bavaria and that night we would be in Oberaula, the village my grandfather’s family had lived in for almost 500 years.

We had covered a period of 250 years of one branch of my family’s history in 5 days. I felt so satisfied and yet it left me feeling like I still had so much to see. I had traveled in time and I wasn’t sure that I was ready to come back to the present.

The most significant aspect of the trip was the opportunity to put all the research I'd done for the past 12-13 years into some perspective of how life really was for my family.  I knew most of the names (on some branches as far as 1600), places, occupations.... I saw photos and documents... BUT, until I walked the streets of the villages and talked to the elderly people I met, I really could not imagine how the Jews lived, how the community functioned, what relationships were like... Now, for the first time, I can understand the sparkle in my grandmother's eyes each time she
recalls her childhood. This alone was worth every bit of time and effort.

EPILOGUE:

We had many wonderful experiences along the way that I just can’t begin to describe or this article will turn into a novel. You’ll just have to go there yourselves. It is really a highly recommended experience for anyone interested in their roots.

For that reason I offer some tips for the traveler:

1) Get a good map of Germany and familiarize yourself with the area you want to visit before the trip.  Not only the towns you will visit but the neighboring areas.  Likewise, try and read a bit about German history.  It will make things you will see and hear much clearer.

2) Make contacts ahead of time.  Where I didn't have a friend already, I called the local tourist bureau and asked for the name of the local historian.  It was amazing how helpful everyone was.  And, soon after I had contacted the tourist office (and explained who I am and why I'm coming), each place did further research for me, whether it was finding someone to show us around, finding older folks who remembered the family, seeking material in their town archives on the family, organizing materials on the city/village, etc. .

3) Consider doing a trip without visiting the concentration camps.  The camps are extremely difficult to see.  Being there will change the whole flavor of your trip.  Without belittling the significance of the Shoah, the Jews have a very rich history in Germany before the Holocaust that is worth seeing. Personally, I could not have mixed the two and enjoyed the trip.

3) Rent a car and drive around.  Traveling in Germany is easy and fast. Streets are well marked and it's difficult to get too lost. For the most part, drivers are courteous.  The villages and surrounding areas are so extraordinarily beautiful that you don't want to miss them.  Public transportation will waste your time and you won't see enough.  Drive up and down even if you don't know where you're going, you're sure to find something fabulous along the way.  It's easy to find your way back to wherever you want to be.

4) Rent a room instead of a hotel.  We stayed in a little village - Unfinden - outside Konigsberg in a house built in the early 1500s.  The house was so beautiful, comfortable, clean (of course!!) and very reasonably priced.  We chose this village because it is centrally located.  It's much easier to find a central location and travel half an hour or hour to the different villages than to move every night or two. 

5) Take whatever information you have on the family (incl. photographs) with you.  It will be very helpful as you look around and meet people.

6) Write down everything.  Despite how fascinating each moment and bit of information will be, it will all get mixed up by the end of the trip.  Keep a notebook with notes each day.  (Including descriptions of photos you take. Believe me, the views and the houses and the gravestones in the photos are not as clear as in real life.  You may not be able to distinguish between different places.)

7) Talk to people.  Stop people on the street.  Especially old folks but not only.  Get an idea of what Germany was like and what it's like today.

8) Carry film and water with you.  There are not tourist spots everywhere and stores are closed at midday and by early evening.  There's hardly anywhere to stop for a cold drink (other than beer).  Bring a padded pack for a big water bottle.  The Germans are not used to drinking all day (as an Israeli I found that hard) and the summer is hot and dry.

9) Leave time free in your schedule for soaking it all in.  It will be emotionally exhausting (not to mention physically!). Keep some quiet time each day to reflect on what you have been through.

10) It is almost a must to know German in Germany or to have someone with you who does.  Most Germans - certainly the older ones and more so outside of the big cities - do not speak English.  I made this trip with my mother who was born in Fulda and speaks fluent German.  Without her translations the trip would have been much more difficult.

Finally, 11) Keep an open mind.  Everyone has their ideas and thoughts about Germany, what happened and how we need to relate to Germany today.  I say, remember that two generations have passed since the war. I pass on a quote from Elie Wiesel, passed on from a friend: "The children of killers are children, not killers.  We must never blame them for what their elders did.  But we can hold them responsible for what they do with the memory of their elders' crimes."