Ilse Odenheimer Jacobsen

Reich: Good morning. 
JACOBSEN: Good morning.

Reich: It’s August the 16th, 1994, and I’m speaking with Ilse Jacobson. My name is Lainye, and Eric Harper is doing the videography. Thank you for coming today. Can you spell your name for me first, to make sure I have the spelling right?
JACOBSEN: [spells out name].

Reich: Okay. Can you tell me your maiden name?
JACOBSEN: My maiden name is Odenheimer, [spells out]. 

Reich: And your birth date?
JACOBSEN: March 4th, 1924.

Reich: Can you tell me the other names of your family members when you were a child?
JACOBSEN: Well, my brother, Kurt and…You mean my parents or…?

Reich: Yeah.
JACOBSEN: Okay. My father’s name was Isidor. My mother was Marie. And I had an uncle who lived with us, a bachelor, whose name was Julius Odenheimer.

Reich: Was your brother older or younger?
JACOBSEN: My brother is older, a year-and-a-half older, so we’re rather close.

Reich: What was your family’s means of support?
JACOBSEN: My father had a family store, like a small department store or dry goods store. And we lived in Odenheim, which is a small town in Southern Germany, and the family had lived there for many generations and had started this store.

Reich: How many generations had the store?
JACOBSEN: Well, I’m not exactly sure, but my father did do a lot of research and sort of traced the family back to the time of the Spanish…

Reich: Inquisition? 
JACOBSEN: Inquisition. And we think that the family then came from Spain up into Germany, and that they were, you know, that they had carts that they went around to the different communities, and that’s how they got the name, and then finally they were given German names. They were the Odenheimer Jews, and so that’s how we got the name Odenheimer.

Reich: What was the name of the store?
JACOBSEN: Odenheimer.

Reich: The store had that name too? 
JACOBSEN: Odenheimer. Yes. – S. Odenheimer

Reich: What kind of neighborhood was the store and your house in?
JACOBSEN: Well, it was, as I say, it was a small town, and we lived above the store actually. It was a large house, and the family lived there and the store was downstairs.

Reich: Was it a mixed neighborhood? Were there Gentiles and Jews, or was it a Jewish neighborhood?
JACOBSEN: No, no. It was just a very small Jewish community and so they were mostly Gentiles– mostly Catholic. It was a Catholic town mostly.

Reich: Were your grandparents living in the same town?
JACOBSEN: No. My father’s parents died very young. My father actually was at the University in Heidelberg when his father died and he had to stop his studies and come home and run the store. And my mother’s parents in lived in a different town.

Reich: What was the name of the town?
JACOBSEN: Kochendorf. That was near Heilbronn, if that means anything.

Reich: I’m not too familiar. Did you get to spend any time with your mother’s parents?
JACOBSEN: Oh yes. We went there on vacations.

Reich: Can you describe that?
JACOBSEN: Well, that was a rather extended family. And we just always had a very nice time there. It was also a rather small town but it was near resort areas, and so we got to go to resorts and do all sorts of fun things.

Reich: Were they particularly religious, your grandparents?
JACOBSEN: Yes. My grandparents were fairly religious; they were observant. My parents also, but they weren’t as strict. I don’t think my parents kept a really kosher household, but my grandparents did.

Reich: Was there a synagogue in the town that they went to?
JACOBSEN: Yes. There was a small synagogue, and my father actually was quite well versed in religion and sometimes conducted the service. But as time went on more people left the town. Toward the end we were the only Jewish people left.

Reich: Do you have any idea what the population began as, you know, in the early 1930? What the size of the population was? 
JACOBSEN: My brother and I tried to go over this. I think at the most there were probably 25 to 30 families living there and most of them left, or some died. The older people died and the young people moved away and then left, you know, to emigrate.

Reich: And in the town that your grandparents lived in, did they also have a synagogue that they attended?
JACOBSEN: Yes. I don’t remember too much about that, but I’m sure there was one.

Reich: I just want to clear it up for myself, were they Orthodox, your grandparents?
JACOBSEN: Well, I’d say they were observant Jews. I don’t think they were strictly Orthodox, but they did keep kosher and observed the rituals, but not too extreme.

Reich: What kind of means of support did they have?
JACOBSEN: My grandfather dealt in cattle.

Reich: It sounds like there wasn’t a large Jewish community, but within that community, this is kind of vague, but what were relationships like? Like what was your relationship and your family’s relationship to the Jewish community on a daily basis?
JACOBSEN: Well, when we were children we were taken to different families. I don’t recall that there were many children our age. I think most of them were older. And I know I went with my mother to visit friends who were widows. There were several ladies living alone and I remember that on certain days we went to visit them. But I don’t remember that there were other… there were many other children that I played with. My friends were all non-Jewish.

Reich: Was your family friendly with many non-Jews?
JACOBSEN: Yes.

Reich: How was that? 
JACOBSEN: Oh, that was just natural. I mean my father was very active in the town. He was a friend of the then burgermeister, (the mayor), and the principal of the school. And he was well thought of; people came to him for advice. He was sort of a big fish in a little pond, you might say, and he enjoyed this very much. And he enjoyed his relationships very much. At that point of his life he was very German. He liked his life and his relationships with people. He was considered a leader in the community. One of the things he did was to make sure that when we were at the age where he thought we should learn to swim, he sought to put in a community pool. And the first thing the Nazis did was put up a sign that we weren’t allowed to swim there. But that’s the sort of thing he did. He was very community-minded, and it was not necessarily Jewish, you know.

Reich: Sounds like you had a pretty comfortable relationship with your neighbors?
JACOBSEN: Oh, yes. Yes.

Reich: Did your family have any political affiliations? 
JACOBSEN: Not that I know of. 

Reich: What would you say your relative economic status was?
JACOBSEN: It was very comfortable. We were very well off. Especially in comparison to other people in the community, I think we were probably considered very well off.

Reich: Were there poor neighborhoods?
JACOBSEN: Well, it was a small town and it was a lot of farming. I wasn’t aware of it but I imagine that people were not particularly well-to-do. They struggled, I’m sure, and especially in the early 1930s when times were very rough in Germany. So I’m sure people were not as comfortable as we were.

Reich: Can you tell me what it was like? You said things were very rough in Germany in the early 1930s. Can you tell me what you mean by that?
JACOBSEN: Well, conditions in Germany were very poor. I think that was one of the reasons Hitler came to power, because people thought that he could help, that he would be helping improve their lives. It was after the big inflation and people just had very little to live on.

Reich: Did you see any… Were there people out starving or…?
JACOBSEN: No. But there were a lot of people out of work, and there wasn’t much hope for them to find work, and I think it was that kind of condition that brought about the Nazi regime.

Reich: Do you remember viewing or seeing any political activities or any of these unemployed people participating in demonstrations? Did you view any groups of people?
JACOBSEN: No. Germans don’t usually demonstrate. And I was too young to really be much aware of what was going on. I know that people would gather and talk about, or complain, but I’m not aware of demonstrations or anything like that at that time. 

Reich: How were you made aware of the economic situation in Germany as a child?
JACOBSEN: Well, I suppose people would come to my father’s store and couldn’t pay, or asked for credit. And he would occasionally discuss that at the dinner table. I think that’s probably the way I was aware of it.

Reich: Did your parents ever discuss the political situation with you?
JACOBSEN: Oh, yes. Well, I mean, I was aware that things were going on.

Reich: Can you tell me a little bit about your Jewish activities, the whole combination of education, religious…?
JACOBSEN: Well, since it was a very small community, a man came once a week and gave us Jewish instructions I guess. And that’s about all the Jewish education I had at that particular time. I went to public school until fourth grade and they had a priest who came into the school and gave them religious instructions. During that time we were excused and we went home. In fact, that was the first time that I became very aware of what was going on. A new teacher came to my class, and I had been excused at the regular time when they usually had the priest come in and give them religious instructions. And this teacher came, and I was standing outside the door waiting. Usually they would open the door and let me come in when this particular part was over, but I heard him just raving and talking very loudly not about religion, but about Nazi, well, what should I say? Giving them entirely different ideas. And I waited outside. I was probably ten years old then. And the door wouldn’t open; they wouldn’t let me in. And so finally I sort of opened the door a little, thinking it must be time for me to come back to school, and he sort of slammed the door. And then finally he opened the door and took my books and put me at the very last row in the classroom where there were empty rows. There were maybe six or seven empty rows. He would take my books and just throw them at the very end and and point. This was where I was to sit. And from then on there was. I couldn’t participate in the class at all. If he asked a question and I would raise my hand, and nobody else would, he’d just totally ignore me like I wasn’t there. So that was my first experience of what was to be.

Reich: I’m interested in from a ten-year-old viewpoint what that felt like and how it was interpreted.
JACOBSEN: Well, it felt, it felt terrible. I just suddenly… I had always been, well, I was considered the best in the class. And it wasn’t because … it was because our background was different. I was the only Jewish child in the class, and somehow our background was just different and without trying I was considered the best in the class. And I was used to participating and to being part of it, the whole thing. And it was, it was awful to just be ignored. None of the other students could communicate with me–were allowed to talk to me. During recess when we were outside I had always been part of a group, and I was totally isolated.

Reich: Who prevented the other students from talking to you? 
JACOBSEN: Oh, the teacher did. I mean he absolutely forbid any contact. And so I was totally isolated, and the way I reacted was that I just spent the time daydreaming. Suddenly I realized that he wasn’t going to call on me, that I wasn’t part of the thing, and I just didn’t do anything. I just daydreamed the time I was there. I think that was my way of dealing with it. I recall that when I told my parents, and my father then asked whether I had to come to school, and they said yes, definitely, I had to come to school. I had to attend class. But what they, you know, what went on in class I had nothing to do, but I had to be there. And I didn’t realize it then, but my parents had of course then tried to get me into this Jewish school, which was a boarding school. But in the meantime, I had to attend class. And when I came out from school the first or maybe the second day, my father was standing there at the entrance and escorted me home. And he said, well, he just happened to be in the neighborhood. And I realized that he wasn’t; he came to get me. And the next day my mother was there. And so they tried to protect me as much as they could, but they were pretty helpless. 

Reich: Were you the only Jewish student in the school?
JACOBSEN: Yeah. At that time. My brother had already been sent to this school, because it was a public school, and after the fourth grade if you wanted to attend a school of higher education you left the public school and went to a different school. And of course nothing was available for us, so they had already sent him to this Jewish boarding school, thinking that I could wait out the time until I was old enough to go to that but it turned out that I couldn’t. And so they arranged for me to leave and go there, and I really don’t remember how long I was in school under these circumstances where I was just totally ignored. 

Reich: Was there ever any debate about it or discussion about your treatment among other members of the school, like other faculty?
JACOBSEN: Oh, I have no idea. I wouldn’t know.

Reich: Did your father …?
JACOBSEN: I’m sure nobody dared dispute this, you know, because I’m sure nobody dared speak up, even if they felt that it was wrong.

Reich: Do you remember other times where that particular teacher was involved in espousing Nazi propaganda to the students? 
JACOBSEN: Oh, yes. Oh, yes. He did. That was his purpose of coming to the school.

Reich: Did that take over the rest of education? 
JACOBSEN: Yeah. I’m sure.

Reich: So can you tell me about the Jewish school? What year was this going on?
JACOBSEN: The year was, let me think, 1934 probably. Yes, I was ten years old. And well, then I was sent to the school, which was absolutely wonderful.

Reich: What was the name of the school?
JACOBSEN: Landschulheim, [spells out]. Herrlingen, [spells out]. And we had to go there by train.

Reich: Where was it located?
JACOBSEN: It’s near Ulm, which is in Wurttemberg on the Danube. It’s a very beautiful part of the country. And the school was located in the mountains in the woods, and in four different houses. And it was rather small. I think at the most there probably a hundred students. We had wonderful teachers who had come from all over Germany, because you [Jews] couldn’t teach in German schools anymore, and even some professors from universities were at the school. The principal of the school, who started it, was a friend and student of Martin Buber. I don’t know if you know about him, He spent a month every year at the school. And so it was just a wonderful atmosphere of really intellectual and yet very unstructured. It was very unique, especially in Germany. Like there were no particular classes. We were divided into groups. For instance, in learning languages you could be in a group with much older children or much younger children depending on your ability. We were not divided into classes according to age. It was just a wonderful atmosphere. And we lived a very Jewish life there, because most of the students and teachers were preparing to go to Israel. It was rather Zionistic. And so we learned all sorts of practical things also, rather than just strictly schoolwork.

Reich: For example? Can you tell me what practical things you were learning? 
JACOBSEN: Oh, gardening. We had to do everything ourselves. We had to clean our rooms. 

We had to clean the house, the houses and the school rooms. We had to work out in the garden. I mean, it was all teaching us to take care of ourselves and the environment which is very different from most Jewish homes in Germany, because we never did anything at home. And it was, it was quite an eye opener. But it was all done in a spirit of fun. And it was wonderful for us, because we were so isolated from what was going on in the rest of Germany. It was like we were in a little island. And we only learned of the things that were happening when we went home on vacation.

Reich: What year did you go to the school?
JACOBSEN: I guess it was 1934 to 1938. Four years.

Reich: Do you know when the school was founded?
JACOBSEN: It was founded in 1933. It was taken over. It had been a different kind of school. A woman had founded it before, I think for special education. And when Hitler started in 1933, she immediately took all of her students to England and started a school there. And so the facilities were there for this kind of school to start, and it just sort of grew, because there was such a need for children who couldn’t go to school otherwise. Of course some of the large cities had Jewish schools. They started schools for Jewish children, but this was really very unique; for us it was wonderful.

Reich: Did you have religious studies?
JACOBSEN: Yes. 

Reich: Observant? Were they particularly religious?
JACOBSEN: Well, this man who was our principal was very, oh how should I put it? He was tolerant. Tolerant is not a good word for it. He felt very strongly that you should not just follow things just because, “This is what you’re supposed to do.” You had to be sincere in what you do. If you believed in doing something, then go ahead and do it, but not if you didn’t. He really stressed this honesty and not doing things by rote.

Reich: Did you ever get to meet Martin Buber?
JACOBSEN: Yes. But I was very young you know. Some of the older students there really got a lot more out of it because he spoke to them and conducted classes for them. But his granddaughters also were at our school during the summer and when we came back from vacation they were still there. And it was interesting to meet them. They were just on their way to Israel, or Palestine then.

Reich: Did you become a Zionist when you were there?
JACOBSEN: Yeah, when I was there, yes. I would have. Well I always knew that we were going to come to America because my mother’s family has already emigrated. Most of them were in Toledo, Ohio. So I knew that eventually if we could we were to come to this country.

Reich: So it sounds like you didn’t have plans to move to Israel?
JACOBSEN: No. No. But I was very interested in it and a lot of people I knew went.

Reich: I’m interested in knowing what Zionism was about at that time. Maybe how you felt about Israel, your personal feelings.
JACOBSEN: Well, it was very exciting, and we learned a lot about Israel, about the conditions, about, well it wasn’t called Israel then. And in fact the principal of the school had already been in Palestine and came back to Germany because his wife couldn’t tolerate the climate and they came back. But some of his children were born in Palestine, and he told us a great deal about conditions. This was sort of the way he conducted the school. We learned Hebrew as a language; that was our first language. And then English was the second language we learned. And it… well, it just seemed like a very exciting, a pioneer sort of thing.

Reich: Was there a Communist element or a communal element, you know, with the kibbutzim and…?
JACOBSEN: Yes. Yes. We were divided into groups, mostly interest groups. And we, for instance, if you got a package from home you didn’t open it, somebody came and you opened it in the presence of someone else. I forget what the percentage was, but mostly we got candies and things like that, because that was not on the menu at the school. And that was always a big thing when you got a package from home. Some of it was taken for the community and some of it you could keep for yourself. It was very, yeah, it was really like a kibbutz. We lived that way.

Reich: Can you tell me about when you went on your vacations to visit your parents? What that was like in contrast?
JACOBSEN: That was a huge contrast. In fact, I’ll tell you, the first time I came home my first thought was to run to my friend, and I guess I had forgotten the in-between part when nobody could talk to me, and my first thought was, “Oh, I’ll have to run over to Maria and tell her all about what’s happening in school, and you know, my new experiences. And I came to her door, and her mother said, “You can’t come in.” And so that was, that was my first real experience of being excluded. The second one actually, but that hit me very hard, because this girl and I had been together, you know, since I can remember, and we were… I considered her my closest friend. And so then went my vacation. I just couldn’t….

Reich: Did her mother tell you why? 
JACOBSEN: Well, I knew why. I mean, she just said, you know, “Maria can’t see you anymore,” and that’s it.

Reich: Did you ever see Maria on the street or in a public place?
JACOBSEN: I probably saw her, but she wouldn’t, couldn’t talk to me and I couldn’t talk to her. We kept pretty much to ourselves. So it was… coming home was not much fun.

Reich: How were things going for your parents at that time?
JACOBSEN: I’d say unfortunately things were still… The store was still doing fairly well as far as I know. And my father was under the impression that he could wait it out. And it was very difficult for him to think that things wouldn’t change again for the better, that this was just a phase they were going through. And he was not well physically. He suffered from asthma all his life, and he had a heart condition and it was just very difficult for him to think of leaving and starting out somewhere here, which would have been very difficult. He couldn’t. So he probably fooled himself into thinking that things couldn’t last and that he could sit it out and that things would change again. Even when other people were leaving and encouraged him to leave also, he said, oh no, he was going to wait it out, which was… I think if we had lived in a larger city, or if he had been in a profession where immediately he could not, like attorneys couldn’t practice or physicians couldn’t practice, he would have been forced to leave. But this way, having a business that was still sort of going, he thought he could manage; he could wait it out.

Reich: I’m thinking about in 1935 when the Nuremburg Laws were passed. Did he discuss it with you?
JACOBSEN: Well, we knew, of course. We had to know what was going on and what we could not do. And there were things in the business that happened that. Things were slowing down a lot for him. And well, his business wasn’t confiscated until 1938, so until then he was still sort of going along with it.

Reich: Were there other changes that impacted him in town?
JACOBSEN: Oh, I’m sure. I mean, he was isolated. He couldn’t communicate or contact people that he had known and who were his friends. He was pretty much isolated. 

Reich: Your brother stayed at the school, too?
JACOBSEN: Yes. 

Reich: Can you tell me between 1934 and 1938, while you were at the school, the chronology of what happened to your family in your hometown, the changes? 
JACOBSEN: Well, I’m sure the business slowed down considerably. They couldn’t really see any of their friends anymore. I don’t know what else I can tell you. Things were pretty grim, and toward the end of 1937 my father realized that things were not going to get better; they were getting worse. At first he realized that he would have to send us away. That was his first thought – that we should leave, my brother and I. At least we could finish our education here. And so he applied for visas for us to come to the States, and of course our family, who was already here, (I had one aunt who had come here in the 1920s; she was very well established) was able to send affidavits for everyone in the family. So he then applied for visas for my brother and me to leave before them. There was a period of two weeks when suddenly, I guess then his business was confiscated.

Reich: What year?
JACOBSEN: I think it was 1937, or maybe the beginning of 1938. And he realized that he and my mother and his brother had better also leave. Two weeks after he had applied for my brother and me for visas he applied for them too. And the number, the quota number that we were given and his were 10,000 higher. So that meant a year and a half of waiting. And that was a death sentence really, because then in… We had to come home from school. The school closed in 1938. And we were at home during Kristalnacht. And they came and arrested my father and my uncle and took them away. They were taken to Dachau. 

Reich: Did you witness…?
JACOBSEN: Yes. We were

Reich: How was it? 
JACOBSEN: Well, the police came and arrested them and took them away. And my mother and my brother and I were there. And my father was very dependent on medication all his life, with his asthma and his condition. And so in the evening my mother said, “We have to find them. We have to find out where they are and bring him his medication.” And so we got a taxi, because it was in the next city they were taken. And we somehow heard that they were taken to the next town. And we got there and looked all over, and finally found them. And then during that night they were marched to the railway station and taken to Dachau. But we didn’t know where they were taken. We didn’t find that out until, oh maybe a week later. And my father came home within two weeks, and my uncle in three or four weeks. And they were in terrible condition. My father was very ill when he came back and was in bed for quite a long time. And during that time my mother was in a terrible state, and so I sat on his bed. I was 14 at the time, and I sat with him for hours. He would tell me what had happened at Dachau and what the conditions were. And so I knew quite a lot of what had gone on, probably more than he told my mother, because he had to talk to someone.

Reich: What did he tell you?
JACOBSEN: Well, it was it was just horrible. It was, I mean, here were these men, who were mostly businessmen or professional people who were in these pajama-like uniforms, and they had to be outdoors. It was very cold; it was in November. And they stood. They had to stand at attention for hours and couldn’t move. And if they moved they got beaten. He told me the first thing that happened when he got there: they came into their barracks and one man complained about something, and the SS guard came and threw him on the floor and kicked him. And I don’t know whether he died right there in front of them. And then the SS guard turned around and said, “Anybody else want to complain about something?” 

Reich: What else happened during Kristalnacht?
JACOBSEN: My father had already bought the synagogue. It was a small building, and he had bought it from the community to protect it. And so the Torah and everything that was in it had already been taken out and sent to Israel. And so that was all boarded up. So nothing was done to the synagogue. And all that happened to us was in the evening somebody threw a little kitten through the window. But no other damage was done during that time.

Reich: I don’t know if you were even able to be aware or not, but were there townspeople involved in Kristalnacht, or mostly people from out of town?
JACOBSEN: Oh, no. They were all from the town. In fact, when they led them away when they arrested them, they had brought the children from the school. We lived sort of on a plaza, and they had brought the children from the school to stand there and make noise and yell and say, “Heil Hitler!” or something when they brought my father and uncle out and put them in cars.

Reich: Was it just your father and your uncle?
JACOBSEN: Yeah.

Reich: So what happened after that? 
JACOBSEN: Well, after that we lived very isolated and just waiting to come, that we could come here. My parents at that time had made arrangements. Since they knew they had to wait about a year-and-a-half to be able to get their visas they were going to go to England. And when my brother and I got our visas we left in August 1939.We left two weeks before the war started. And they were supposed to go to England and wait until they could come to the United States, as many people had done. Well, they brought us to Hamburg to the boat, and we left, my brother and I. And they went home to pack up and leave. At that time the war hadn’t quite started yet, but England had… the borders were already closed, and they could not go to England. So they then tried to go from Italy, and they were already at the airport in Frankfurt to fly to Genoa when my father had a heart attack and they had to go back home. And all they had was the hand luggage. Everything else had been sent off. Somehow they managed to get home. They were trying to go, and then Italy entered the war and there were no more ships; there was no way they could get out through Italy. So then the next thing was to go through Russia into China, into Shanghai. My mother went to Berlin to get the visa, the transit visa through Russia, but she didn’t know that you had to bribe the Russian officials. And so she didn’t get the visa, and they were not allowed to go. So then the next thing was that they were arrested and taken to the concentration camp in Gurs.

Reich: What was happening to your grandparents during this time?
JACOBSEN: My grandparents had left. They left in 1936 and came to this country. And most of my mother’s family had already emigrated, had gone out. Then the next thing we heard was that we got a telegram from my uncle saying that they had been taken to this concentration camp in France, in Southern France.

Reich: Your uncle and your mother and your father? 
JACOBSEN: Yes. The three of them. 

Reich: Do you know what month it was?
JACOBSEN: Yeah. I know exactly. It was the end of October or the beginning of November in 1940.

Reich: Had there been about a year in between when you had left? 
JACOBSEN: Yeah.

Reich: And when they were taken to Gurs?
JACOBSEN: Yes. When they were trying all these different ways to get out and couldn’t. Nothing worked.

Reich: And were you in contact with them?
JACOBSEN: Yes.

Reich: During that time?
JACOBSEN: Yes. We had letters from them, and things were pretty grim. And my father was ill, and they were just trying desperately to get out and couldn’t anymore.

Reich: Did they ever consider illegal means to get out of the country?
JACOBSEN: Not that I know of. I don’t know how they could have; it was very difficult.

Reich: Okay.
JACOBSEN: Then the next thing that we knew is that they were in Gurs and my father was very ill and was immediately taken to the sick quarters, which were terribly primitive. He died there very shortly after, on the l0th of November. So he was only there maybe a week-and-a-half or two weeks at the most.

Reich: How were your uncle and mother and father transported from Germany to France?
JACOBSEN: I don’t know. I don’t know whether they were taken. I guess they were put on trains, because all everyone who was left in Southern Germany at that time was taken there. And I would imagine they were put on trains. And in fact, in one of the letters my mother writes that they had been given one hour to get ready and to get some food together and some clothes. They didn’t know where they were taken, what was happening to them. So after then my father died there, and my mother couldn’t… The men were in a different camp from the women so my mother wasn’t even there when he died. Things were pretty rough. I can read you some excerpts from letters that she wrote; she was able to write letters to us. We were in Toledo, Ohio. And she wrote to us and her whole family.

Reich: Please do.
JACOBSEN: Okay. This is from my uncle. And he writes, “A terrible misfortune has befallen Marie, Isidor and me when we were taken away from our surroundings and deported to occupied France into a concentration camp where we are existing in very primitive conditions. Isidor is in the infirmary as he had a high fever. Marie is well. She is in the women’s camp, which is half an hour from here. I visited her the day before yesterday, and Isidor wrote yesterday to Bern” (which is where somebody that they knew lived) “for food and money but I don’t know whether things can be sent. I beg you to send us whatever you can. We were not allowed to take very much in clothing with us, and we’ll have to see how we get along. Our future is unknown.” And then my mother writes, “Today was the first time I could visit Isidor,” (my father) “He seems to be all right, but you can imagine what kind of mental condition we are in. We were given one hour to leave and gather food and clothing, and we’re missing a lot. So do everything you can to help us with food and clothing.” (And we did send packages but they never got them.) “I heard you can send through the Red Cross.” And then she writes, “We don’t want to give up. Our God will help us. We will remain strong. I’m glad I was not left behind alone.” I don’t know. Do you want me to read more?

Reich: Uh-huh.
JACOBSEN: Then my mother writes later, “Can you say Kaddish for your dear father? Don’t miss it when at all possible and live in the beliefs of your father. He had to endure a lot during the last period of his life, and not once during the last days and hours was I able to relieve his pain. You know how hard this is for me, and the only consolation is that he doesn’t have to suffer anymore. I have been at many funerals since then. There is constant death here.” And then she writes, “The dirt around here is awful and the nights are very cold. If it is at all possible, maybe you can send me some secondhand clothing.”

Reich: Did she ever receive letters from you?
JACOBSEN: Very few… at first none. She writes that, “I’m worried that I haven’t heard from you.” And then finally I guess she got a whole lot of letters all together, because we, the whole family, wrote constantly and very few of the letters got there. Then she writes, this is in December, “The cold bothers us a lot. The water freezes, and soon we won’t have any water for washing and cooking.” I guess they had to prepare their own food. “Right now,” she writes, “Right now we’re celebrating Hanukkah, and each day we celebrate it in a different iliyot. ”Those are the different barracks. “There is a lot of music and recitation and it is often quite merry. Actually there is a lot being done to help us forget a little bit our sad lot and the Hanukkah lights renew our spirit and hope. Yesterday everybody in our barracks received two apples, which were donated by someone.” So then in February she was taken… I’ll read this. “As you can see I have advanced another step. The day before yesterday we traveled for 24 hours and you can imagine how we feel being free human beings after four months. Free to go wherever we want. Twelve women from the camp are here. We are quartered in the hotel, four persons to a room, two to a bed. The food is about the same as in Gurs, but better prepared. In the morning a cup of black coffee, at noon a plate with vegetables, in the evening some soup and a daily ration of bread. We can’t buy much else but fruit since practically everything is rationed. But this isn’t so bad. We’re getting along. We’re used to it by now. The main thing is to get away from here as soon as possible, but now obstacles are starting again, particularly when you don’t know the language, it is hard to be understood. First we went to HIAS” (And I don’t know what that is. I guess it’s an agency.) “where you have to wait hours on end and then they send you away and the waiting starts again the following day. And then they can’t help you much. You have to do everything for yourself.” And then she goes on, “I also visited the American Consul and have been scheduled to appear on the 27th of March, but it is not sure that I’ll receive my visa at that time.” And then she goes on down here, “I received a wonderful package with eggs, butter, cheese and sausage but I didn’t know from whom.” And then she got a letter from an uncle of hers who lived in Southern France, and they had a small farm and they sent her packages of food. 

Reich: What was the name of the town she was in?
JACOBSEN: Right now, then she was in Marseilles. They were taken from Gurs to Marseille. Once their papers were in order, or they were notified by the consulate that my relatives in Toledo were able to get her papers transferred from Stuttgart in Germany to Marseilles, to the consulate. So then when they were notified that the papers were there, they were released from camp. In March she writes, “You just have to have a lot of patience, because everyplace you have to stand and wait for hours and if you leave you run into the same situation the next day.” In the same letter she writes, “We take our long walks along the Mediterranean. It is just beautiful.” So then she was, this is all personal to the people, to the family. And then she was trying to get on different ships and asked for the family here to be able to make arrangements for her to leave through Portugal or whatever, but nothing was available. And then finally she said, “I made the decision this week to enter my name for a place on the shipping company to Martinique. The boat is supposed to leave here early in May.” And then she goes on, “Yesterday I picked up my visa, and it is good until August 22nd. If I don’t get out by then I’ll let them bury me.”

Reich: What do you think she meant by that?
JACOBSEN: Oh, she was getting discouraged, you know, because nothing, everything you had to wait in line forever, and you were turned down, and trying to get out. Everybody was trying to get out of Marseilles, and there was very little available, very little means of getting out. Then on May 4th she writes, “I don’t know if it really will become true. I can hardly believe it. Today I packed my suitcase and on Tuesday the 6th the ship is supposed to depart. I always think that maybe something is going to happen in the meantime, since we have been so close so many times to getting away and it never worked out. There is no way that you can understand the feeling. The closer it comes, the heavier is my heart. Why couldn’t your dear father be able to go with me? Here in strange ground must I leave him, and I won’t even have a chance to visit his grave once more.” And then she writes down here, “The voyage to Martinique won’t be easy. It will take three weeks if everything goes according to plan until we get to Martinique and I know I will be able to proceed from there. But I think you will be able to make arrangements.” And then she goes on, “This afternoon I got a cable from Uncle Julius,” who was still at the camp. “He’s finally arrived here, and tomorrow morning he will come here on the last day that I’m here. I couldn’t understand this, and he had given up all hope.” May 8th, she’s on board the ship, “About 60 women are in one room, all in double bunks without any daylight and no usable space. The sanitary facilities are also inadequate.” It was a freighter, and they just packed them into this, and then she writes, “We ran into a storm, and a lot of people became terribly seasick, which was horrible to watch. A Miss Faye, (who has been with me all the time since Gurs) and I didn’t go down to the bedroom at night but stayed on deck and slept on our deckchairs.” I guess that’s all the letters I have. What happened to them then is at the end of their trip, the day before they were to arrive in Martinique, the British attacked the ship, because it was from the Vichy government; it was an enemy ship. And instead of going to Martinique they took them to Trinidad, which really was a godsend for them because then they put them on cruise ships and she was able to come to New York. So it ended okay. But my uncle, who came the last day she was in Marseilles, was supposed to get on the next trip, which was supposed to leave the following week. And during that week they were, we heard later, because suddenly we had no word from him whatsoever, and we understood then from… through the Red Cross that they rounded up all the Jews during that week and sent them to Poland. And we never heard from him again. So that’s the story of my family.

Reich: I’d like to hear your story, too, your voyage from Germany to New York and to Ohio.
JACOBSEN: Well, we were very fortunate. My father had made all these arrangements for us, and we were on a luxury ship leaving Hamburg; we had a wonderful trip and arrived in New York. My aunt and uncle came to meet us and took us to the New York World’s Fair.

Reich: What was the date that you arrived?
JACOBSEN: We arrived August 16th, I believe, in 1939. And then we went by train to Ohio. And as I said, my mother’s family lived there. My brother stayed with one aunt and uncle and I stayed with another. And I got to go to high school. And my brother went to night school and got a job. And so we were very comfortable.

Reich: Did you go to a public high school?
JACOBSEN: Yes. It was quite a difference going to a high school of 2000 or more students from the school where we were a hundred and very, very close and very intimate. So it was quite an adjustment for me, but it worked out fine.

Reich: What was your awareness of what was going on in World War II while you were in the United States, and if you can tell me the awareness of the Americans that you met in school?
JACOBSEN: Well, I was very much aware of what was going on, and of course very concerned and worried about my parents. And I was very surprised at how little awareness there was here, especially among the students. No one seemed to care or know anything about the world situation. And it was very shocking, very upsetting to me to find out how very little people knew of what had happened all along, and how very unaware people were at that time in Toledo. Perhaps in New York people were more attuned to things that had happened. But in Ohio no one seemed to know or care. People were very much into their own lives. Kids were having a good time. It was tough for me, because I felt very alone.

Reich: Were the young men going into the military from your high school?
JACOBSEN: Not yet. I think that was still early. America wasn’t in the war. People were not particularly interested in what was happening over there. And when I tried to talk well, first of all my English was very poor and when I tried to tell people they really didn’t want to hear about it. They said, “Oh, forget about it.” You know, “You are here now,” and you know, “Forget it.” Which was very hard, because I think it would have helped to have someone, well, of course our family was involved and knew what was going on, but outside people didn’t.

Reich: What about the local newspapers or radio stations? Was there any discussion of what was going on?
JACOBSEN: Not much. Very little. 

Reich: So you were in Ohio when Pearl Harbor was bombed?
JACOBSEN: Yes. I think that’s when people, you know, or well, possibly before then people were aware of the war and the war effort. But yeah, I remember Pearl Harbor very vividly.

Reich: Tell me what you remember.
JACOBSEN: Well, it was quite a shock that this could happen, you know, and how vulnerable we felt.

Reich: Did Pearl Harbor or when the US went to war against Germany, or joined the allies, did that change the sentiment in the town? 
JACOBSEN: Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Very definitely. And the war effort was ln full swing, and people were very much aware of what was going on. I don’t think people were aware of what happened to the Jews at that time.

Reich: So there was maybe still some disinterest on that subject? 
JACOBSEN: Yeah. And it wasn’t until, you know, the pictures came back from the concentration camps when they were being liberated that people knew what had happened.

Reich: Was there much of a Jewish community in the town? 
JACOBSEN: Oh, yes.

Reich: Did you participate in the community? 
JACOBSEN: Yeah, somewhat.

Reich: Was there more awareness of what was going on…?
JACOBSEN: In the Jewish community? 

Reich: Yeah.
JACOBSEN: Yeah, some. I don’t think until they realized what had happened in the concentration camps – that there was much of a… well, if people had families, they knew, or they guessed you know that they knew that people had been arrested and taken away. So there was some awareness, but I don’t think until after the liberation of the concentration camps that they realized what extent it was.

Reich: When did you first become aware of the extent of the Holocaust?
JACOBSEN: It’s hard to say, because I knew all along. You know, after my mother came and told us, and from these letters, and yet Gurs was not the kind of camp that they were in Poland, where they were, you know, actually. I mean, Gurs was, nobody was killed there. They were just in very primitive conditions. But you know we were lucky that they were there instead of being taken to Poland right away. But from what my mother told us, you know, she had heard from other people in the camp what had gone on, so I knew. I was very much aware of it.

Reich: Did you know about Auschwitz before the end of the war? 
JACOBSEN: Yes.

Reich: How did you know?
JACOBSEN: I think we knew about Auschwitz when we were still in Germany. And when my father came back from Dachau we knew what was going on. And even though the Jewish men were, most of them were released at that time, but he also knew about people who had been kept there. There was a bishop who was there, and they occasionally saw them, or were made to be aware of others who were kept in that camp who were very badly treated. So we were aware of that.

Reich: How did you feel as a Jew in Toledo in your relations with non-Jews?
JACOBSEN: Oh. I had no particular feelings about it.

Reich: I’m asking because I’m wondering if you felt a greater sense of security here or if you still felt insecure about your safety? 
JACOBSEN: No. No. It was just a time of great adjustment for me and it was rather difficult, trying to make relationships and get acquainted and all that. And so there wasn’t much of a difference. I mean, I didn’t feel any different toward non-Jews than I did….

Reich: I’m wondering if there was any effort on the part of the Jewish community in Toledo to bring Jewish refugees to the United States, or putting pressure on the United States government to open the borders more to refugees, anything like that?
JACOBSEN: No. Or if there was, there were organizations in New York at the time who tried to put pressure on the government, and I remember my uncle asking me to write letters to Mrs. Roosevelt, which we did. But nothing happened. Nothing was done. In fact, when, going back to Kristalnacht, the next morning my aunt, my father’s sister who lived in Ludwigsburg, which is near Stuttgart, called my mother and said, “Come here. A group of woman (all the women whose husbands have been arrested) are going to the consulate in Stuttgart to see if we can’t do anything about it; the United States has got to do something now that they see this.” And we did go; my mother, and my aunt, and a whole group of women went to Stuttgart and were on the steps of the consulate when the American consul came out and chased them away. They thought, you know, “They’ve got to do something. They’ve got to help us.” And there was no response, or rather a negative response, because he was… they just were not going to do anything. And that was very hard for these women to understand. 

Reich: Did you ever receive a response from Mrs. Roosevelt’s office?
JACOBSEN: From the office we got a response but it was very noncommittal and said, “Thank you for writing; we’ll see what we can do.” But nothing was ever done. We just tried so hard. I mean my family, my aunts and uncle tried every way they could to get them out, you know, by any means possible, but there was no way.

Reich: After your mother carne to the United States, was she ever asked to bear witness to what was going on?
JACOBSEN: Never. No. I realize now that all this, in fact, since the Anne Frank thing all this interest in the Holocaust. At that time, nothing. No one asked you anything. No one tried to support her or help her in any way. And it would have been great if she could have had some support then. I mean, she had her family, but no organization was ever interested in, you know, just even talking to her, which would have been helpful to her.

Reich: Did she come to live with you? 
JACOBSEN: Yes, Well at first. After I got married and came out here, she divided her time between my brother, who lived in Ohio, and coming out here, and then toward the end she stayed with us always. 

Reich: I’m wondering when she first came to Ohio, to New York and then to Ohio, what were things like for her and how was your relationship with her?
JACOBSEN: Well, we tried. It’s hard to say because when you’re 18 or 19 and you’re so wrapped up in your own life that…. and she didn’t want to talk much about her experiences at that time. She really couldn’t talk a lot about it, and she was, she was very thin when she arrived, but she tried as hard as she could to adjust and to make the best of things. She never complained. And I don’t know, we just tried to pick up our lives and do the best we could,

Reich: And in those early years, did she live with you?
JACOBSEN: Yes, yes, we had an apartment – my brother and myself and my mother. And my brother worked and went to night school. After I graduated high school I also got a job and went to night school, to college. And she also found a little job, which was very helpful. At first a doctor friend of the family got her a job as a companion to a lady who needed someone with her, and so that was very nice for her, and she learned a little bit of English and was able to help this lady. That was very beneficial for her,

Reich: What was her job?
JACOBSEN: Well, just be a companion and see that she… She had to prepare a little bit of food for her, but it was in a hotel, in a residential hotel, and so she had very little to do but to be with her,

Reich: What was your job?
JACOBSEN: I worked in an office, and then after the war effort started, I worked at one of the war plants in the office.

Reich: Did your brother get involved in the war effort?
JACOBSEN: Oh, yes. He was drafted, and he was in the ground forces of the air force, and he was sent to India. So he spent I don’t know how many years in India. 

Reich: Can you tell me what his experience there was?
JACOBSEN: Oh, he hated every minute of it. It was hot and miserable, but he was lucky he wasn’t at the front or, you know…

Reich: Was he in combat at any time? 
JACOBSEN: No.

Reich: Well, when did you get married?
JACOBSEN: I got married in 1946 in Toledo. My husband had been discharged from the Army in New York. He’d lived in San Francisco before. He knew my uncle from way back in Germany as a child.

Reich: He was German also?
JACOBSEN: Yes. Yes. He was born in Hamburg. And his mother and my uncle, who was then a bachelor, were, knew each other. And so he came to visit my uncle, and we met and that’s how we, I came out here.

Reich: Did you have a Jewish wedding? 
JACOBSEN: Yes.

Reich: And why did you come out with your husband?
JACOBSEN: Well, he had lived in San Francisco before, and he also before the war was with Crown Zellerbach paper and he had been sent to Camas, Washington. And so when we got married his job was in Camas and we came out to Camas, Washington. And we lived there for a short time, but we didn’t like it.

Reich: Was there a Jewish community there?
JACOBSEN: No. No.

Reich: You were the only Jews in the community? 
JACOBSEN: I’m sure we were. But he knew some people here in Portland, and we eventually came and lived in Portland, and he got another job. And so we’ve lived here, well, with a short, we were five years in Los Angeles. He was transferred and then he came back. He got a promotion and came back. And we’ve lived here ever since.

Reich: Have you been involved in the Portland Jewish community?
JACOBSEN: Yeah. I used to be very active. I was on the board of the Council of Jewish Women, and we’ve belonged to Temple Beth Israel. Our daughter went to Sunday school there.

Reich: Did you meet up with other refugees in Portland? 
JACOBSEN: Mm-hmm. Yeah, we know quite a few.

Reich: Did you have children?
JACOBSEN: Yes, we have a daughter. 

Reich: What’s her name?
JACOBSEN: Her name is Lynn, and she went to Japan during her sophomore year in college and fell in love with Japan. And she came back here and graduated and went right back to Japan and lived there for 12 years. Got married, has a child, and now they live here. So we’re glad.

Reich: Were you able to go visit her ln Japan?
JACOBSEN: Oh, yes. We went quite a few times. Had a very interesting time in Japan.

Reich: I’m wondering if you have any philosophical explanations for yourself of the Holocaust, how you explain it to yourself, if you do?
JACOBSEN: I can’t explain it. I really have been haunted by it for many, many years. And actually what bothers me is that there was not much of an awareness of the Holocaust until a few years ago. This has always bothered me a lot, that now suddenly the Holocaust is very much on everybody’s mind, which I think is a good thing. But all these years no one seemed to take notice. And I think a lot of the people who survived feel that way. Some people I’ve spoken to say, “Well, where were they 50 years ago?” Because really nothing. I feel now that my mother could have been helped by having more of a support group at the time. My brother still has never talked to his children about the Holocaust or his experiences. They knew nothing, and it was just by accident a few years ago when we were together and I mentioned something about my mother’s trip, you know, and being attacked by the British and being, you know, all these adventures, and they absolutely knew nothing of all of this. And they said, “Our grandmother? This happened to our grandmother?” Yes. They had no idea. And this has bothered me a lot, because she wasn’t able to tell them or to talk about it.

Reich: Did she ever talk about it with anyone outside of the family?
JACOBSEN: Yes, but not for a long time. I couldn’t talk about it for many years. And now I feel I have to. Now I really want to talk about it.

Reich: Why do you think that there’s this renewed interest?
JACOBSEN: I don’t know. I don’t know. I was very much aware of it during the Anne Frank exhibit that suddenly people were talking about it. And I said, “Well, you know, this happened during your lifetime. Where were you? Why didn’t you know?” But they didn’t seem to take notice. And this has bothered me.

Reich: Was there any recognition when camps like Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen and Dachau were liberated, in the local papers?
JACOBSEN: Yeah. People went to see the movies, and then there was… Yeah, there was quite a bit of talk about it, and there were articles written and that.

Reich: And was that sort of the sum of it at that time?
JACOBSEN: Yeah. It was still like it was removed, you know. It was terrible. I mean, I think about it now the way we see Africa. We see what’s happening, and we see this terrible suffering, and yet it, it doesn’t touch our lives. And I suppose this is the way it was.

Reich: Do you have a message that you would like to record? 
JACOBSEN: Well, all I can say is, “never again.” But it’s happening in other parts of the world to other people and I don’t know what we can do about it. I don’t understand how people can do this to one another, but it’s happening. It’s reality.

Reich: When you first came to Ohio, or during the war at least, were you an enemy alien?
JACOBSEN: Yes.

Reich: And what restrictions?
JACOBSEN: Well, we couldn’t go anywhere without permission. We had to get a permit. Like my aunt and uncle had a cottage at a lake, and in order for us to go there for a weekend we had to get permission to leave town. And I guess that’s the only restriction I can remember.

Reich: I want to go back. When you were talking about your family being religious, what, on a day-to-day basis, what did that mean and how important was religion to you and to your family?
JACOBSEN: On a daily basis, I don’t know. We did observe the Shabbat, and I’m not even sure my mother lit candles. But we always had challah and we had Friday night dinner. We did observe the Shabbat. And the holidays and they were always very special occasions. For a while as a child I think I was quite religious. I don’t know what else I can tell you.

Reich: You also mentioned that your father was German. What does that mean exactly?
JACOBSEN: Well, he, you know, he had fought in World War I. He was just very steeped in German. He considered himself a very good German. 

Reich: Did he consider himself German foremost? I mean it sounds like he was very conscious of his Jewish identity as well. 
JACOBSEN: Oh, yeah. Yeah, he was both. I don’t know whether I could say he was German first or Jewish first. I mean, these were both important things in his life. He didn’t think that there was any, you know, and that one would contradict the other. He was a German Jew.

Reich: And you also mentioned that he knew the burgermeister? 
JACOBSEN: Oh, yes.

Reich: How did their relationship change as things got tougher? Did he ever talk about it?
JACOBSEN: Well, yes. I mean, he went from being on very intimate terms with these people who were the leaders of the community (and he was one of them), to suddenly nobody had anything to do with him. He was just totally left out – was just not part of the group anymore.

Reich: Do you know if he still kept a friendly relationship with them?
JACOBSEN: No, he couldn’t. No, there was no contact. And of course during those years the leadership changed. You know, people were, I don’t know whether they were elected or how this government worked, the local government, but anyway, people who he knew were not in power anymore, and new people came in who had entirely different ideas.

Reich: I’m interested in hearing the progression and the change of the political situation that you can remember. Do you remember first hearing of Hitler? When you first heard of him?
JACOBSEN: I don’t know when I first heard of him. I when he first started in 1933 I was what nine years old, and I don’t know that I was very much aware of it. I probably heard the name or, while there were a few groups of young men marching around in their uniforms and strutting, and people thought they were just… You know, at that time there were so many different factions in German politics, and so many different groups, and they were always marching or doing something, and you thought, “Oh well, that’s another group,” you know. They didn’t bother us particularly at that time.

Reich: Did your family at all discuss, because certainly Hitler was known?
JACOBSEN: Yeah.

Reich: Did you remember your family talking about your safety at all before then?
JACOBSEN: No.

Reich: They weren’t concerned?
JACOBSEN: No. I think they felt very safe at that time. And people had reassured them. I think that was a problem. They said, “Oh well, maybe there are a few Jews who are… but you’re not like that,” you know, “and you don’t have to worry about anything.”

Reich: Before this run-in with this Nazi teacher, you had never heard of any sort of Jewish persecution, or this was your first… I mean, your parents never spoke about it or you never heard about anything until this actually happened to you?
JACOBSEN: Probably not. I don’t recall that I was, well I think we were made aware of that there were Nazis around, you know, and that things were happening, but it hadn’t touched us before that.

Reich: And besides these run-ins with not being able to see your friends and the situation at your school, between like let’s say 1934 and between when your father lost his shop, were any other restrictions placed on you?
JACOBSEN: Well, yeah, I’m sure there were. I mean, we were very restricted in our movements and what we could do. We couldn’t participate in anything in the town at home.

Reich: You mentioned the swimming pool. Was a sign put up?
JACOBSEN: Yes.

Reich: And what year did that happen?
JACOBSEN: I don’t remember. You see, the funny part was that my father’s uncle, who had left as a child, very early, and went to New Orleans and became a millionaire (it’s sort of the American story), came back to Odenheim to his hometown. His name also is Odenheimer. And he wanted to do something. This was in 1932 before Hitler started. And he wanted to do something for his hometown. And the only thing he could think of, there were a lot of unemployed at the time and conditions were very poor. And my father wanted him to do something for the poor. He said, “Well, food or something?” Oh no. He wasn’t interested in that. He wanted something that would have his name on it. And so he wanted to erect a monument as, the Siegfried legend has something to do with Odenheim, where Siegfried was killed at a spring ln the woods near Odenheim. This is a German legend. And so he wanted to erect a monument there and have his name on that. The first thing that happened was my father was in charge of this monument. And he had it built and he had this stone put in with dedicated to this uncle. And the first thing when a new burgermeister came in was that they took the stone out so that his name wouldn’t be on there. And that triggered my father into having a pool from the water that was from that spring was supposed to be diverted into this pool, and it was. And the first time we got bathing suits, and we marched down there, and thought we were going to… and the first thing we saw was “Jews Not Allowed.” So that was very early on, probably 1933 or ’34.

Reich: Were there other signs around the town saying Jews were forbidden?
JACOBSEN: No. Not in our town that I can remember. 

Reich: And can you think of any other examples of the isolation?
JACOBSEN: Well, it was, I won’t say it was subtle, but we just knew that we couldn’t go anywhere or do anything with other people.

Reich: And you never broke those rules?
JACOBSEN: Oh, you couldn’t. No.

Reich: You were afraid of being arrested?
JACOBSEN: Yeah, or that my father would be arrested or you know, you just didn’t.

Reich: Thanks. Thank you very much.