Anne Miller

Iliinsky: Hello, Anne. I’d like you to begin by your telling us your maiden name.
MILLER: Bloch [spells out]. Bloch.

Iliinsky: And where were you born?
MILLER: In Cologne.

Iliinsky: I’d like you to start by telling us a little bit about your family way before the war when you were little, and what year you were born.
MILLER: I was born in 1912. I don’t know very much because when my mother died I was seven years old. After three and a half years my father married again with three children. Nothing happened. I mean, it started in 1935 with Hitler.

Iliinsky: What do you remember before 1935?
MILLER: We got married in ’35, and everything was OK in Germany. Hitler was there already, but we never thought this would happen, what happened.

Iliinsky: Let me back up a little bit.
MILLER: OK.

Iliinsky: What kind of work did your father do?
MILLER: He was a traveling salesman.

Iliinsky: In what sort of neighborhood did you live in?
MILLER: Very nice. My father was quite well-to-do.

Iliinsky: And were your neighbors Jewish or non-Jewish?
MILLER: One Jewish family. There were three floors. There were my parents and another couple that were Jewish.

Iliinsky: In the three floors?
MILLER: Yes.

Iliinsky: In an apartment building or a house?
MILLER: House.

Iliinsky: Do you remember the name of the street you lived on?
MILLER: Salaeir [spells out].

Iliinsky: How did you observe Judaism in your family? Did you practice?
MILLER: My father, he went all through the holidays, to my folks. When I was married, I lived in a different city, Essen, where all the coal industry was. Dirty, dirty city.

Iliinsky: When you were little, you went for holidays to synagogue?
MILLER: Yes, with my parents.

Iliinsky: Do you remember the name of the synagogue?
MILLER: I know the name here in Portland.

Iliinsky: In what part of the city was it in?
MILLER: It was very nice. Very big.

Iliinsky: What were the relationships like between the Jewish and the non-Jewish people?
MILLER: Always very good. We always had [something in between?], but it was very nice.

Iliinsky: Can you tell us a story about that, the connection between neighbors?
MILLER: We spoke to each other, and sometimes we helped each other. We lived in Essen. We had a big villa. We had an apartment there. Bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, and living room. It was very nice.

Iliinsky: Were your grandparents nearby?
MILLER: No, they were two hours away in Cologne, where I was born.

Iliinsky: Both sets of grandparents?
MILLER: The parents of my husband, they lived in a different city, in Dusseldorf.

Iliinsky: What do you remember when you were little about your grandparents’ Jewish practice?
MILLER: We were always a very close family. My mother had two sisters and three brothers [inaudible]. We had a close family, yes. I’m the only one. I have a cousin living in England. I was with his brother, who was the same age as mine, more together. He was four years older. We didn’t have much in common. He kept everything against me [inaudible]. He came to Portland. I didn’t see him. Besides, then my father married again. The whole family was against it.

Iliinsky: How old were you when your father remarried?
MILLER: Eight or nine. We had with my second mother a very good relationship, until I came into my teens. She wanted to make a lady out of me. I didn’t want to.

Iliinsky: What did your mother die from?
MILLER: My first mother?

Iliinsky: Yes.
MILLER: Flu and pneumonia. There was no medication at the time. Aspirin and [inaudible word].

Iliinsky: Can you tell me a little bit about your neighborhood, what it was like? Were there shops, or was it mostly residential?
MILLER: Mostly residential. It doesn’t exist anymore. My father brought us to Berlin where the train went when I went to Spain [inaudible]. I found out ten years later they put German spies onto the Jewish people. When they arrived in Lisbon, they asked us all kinds of questions. Are you Jewish? [Inaudible] the answers. They were very well trained.

Iliinsky: We want to get to that in a little bit.
MILLER: OK.

Iliinsky: So did you go to school in Essen?
MILLER: No, I went to school in Cologne.

Iliinsky: Could you tell me a little bit about what your school was like?
MILLER: It was a Catholic school. My mother wanted me very close to home. She brought me and picked me up. It was still war going on in 1918 [inaudible] years.

Iliinsky: Were there many Jewish children in this school?
MILLER: No, I was the only one.

Iliinsky: What was the name of the school?
MILLER: I don’t know. I forget the name.

Iliinsky: And so that was primary school. Did you go to secondary school or high school?
MILLER: No, I wanted to be home economics. I went first Frankfurt-am-Mein school. After one year I went to Hamburg, hospital work. It got worse [inaudible]. I had to quit.

Iliinsky: What year did you leave your secondary school? Do you remember? Or how old you were?
MILLER: I was fifteen when I started the school.

Iliinsky: When do you remember the beginning of things starting to get more difficult for Jews?
MILLER: ’35.

Iliinsky: What happened then?
MILLER: You couldn’t do this anymore. When I left, my father and mother had to wear a sign, “Jude.”

Iliinsky: What couldn’t you do in 1935 that you could do before?
MILLER: Nothing. It wasn’t as bad in Essen or the smaller cities, but they didn’t give you much. I had a girl who helped me with two children, but I had to take a Jewish girl over 35. And then November 9, they broke everything.

Iliinsky: Kristallnacht. Where were you?
MILLER: I was in our apartment. My husband [was?] in Dusseldorf, where his parents were.

Reich: Mrs. Miller, could you move your sweater away from the microphone please?
MILLER: You want me to sit here?

Reich: No, could you fold your sweater — thank you.
MILLER: I can take it off if you want to.

Reich: No. The microphone has to be exposed. Your sweater is over it. Here, I’ll  — there you go.

Iliinsky: I want to back up a little bit and get some more information about your parents and grandparents. What sort of occupations did your grandparents do?
MILLER: Men’s clothing, three floors.

Iliinsky: This was your father’s?
MILLER: My mother’s.

Iliinsky: Your mother’s father.
MILLER: Yes.

Iliinsky: Where did he work in men’s clothing, what city?
MILLER: Cologne.

Iliinsky: And your mother’s parents?
MILLER: Those were my mother’s parents.

Iliinsky: Those were your mother’s parents.
MILLER: Yes, I never met my father’s parents. They were dead. I never asked any questions. They were not there anymore.

Iliinsky: What were the names of your mother’s parents? Their last name?
MILLER: Meyer [spells out].

Iliinsky: So you were born just before World War I?
MILLER: The First World War started in ’15, and I was born in ’12.

Iliinsky: How did that impact your family?
MILLER: My father volunteered. At that time, Jews could volunteer. Then he got hurt, so the war was out for him. I think he was three or four years there, four years.

Iliinsky: How was he hurt?
MILLER: He had shrapnel in his upper leg, couldn’t walk for a time. We three children visited him quite often. He was not in the hospital; he had a private apartment.

Iliinsky: Away from the family? 
MILLER: Yes.

Iliinsky: How old were you when you visited him?
MILLER: I was three years old. I don’t remember too much anymore. At any rate, I visited him [inaudible].

Iliinsky: And you had brothers and sisters?
MILLER: One sister and one brother. There were three children.

Iliinsky: What are their names?
MILLER: Hilda and Helmut.

Iliinsky: And you were the oldest?
MILLER: Middle.

Iliinsky: You said the family was pretty close. Did you visit with grandparents on holidays?
MILLER: Yes.

Iliinsky: How often would you see them?
MILLER: At least every week, maybe twice a week. We were a very close family. When my father married the second time, the whole family was against us. My grandparents, my aunts and uncle. What is [he? or first name?] doing? With three children, he has to have something [inaudible]. After three and a half years my father married again. My family didn’t speak to us anymore.

Iliinsky: Your grandparents?
MILLER: Nobody spoke to us. We were the silent family.

Iliinsky: Kind of isolated.
MILLER: Yes.

Iliinsky: So what was that like for you? How old were you then?
MILLER: I was seven when my mother went. Three and a half years [the father remarried after three and a half years]. The children didn’t notice it too much. My brother and I didn’t notice it. My sister was four years older than I am. She remembers.

Iliinsky: Do you remember the wedding, when your father remarried?
MILLER: Yes, we were there.

Iliinsky: Was it in a synagogue?
MILLER: Yes.

Iliinsky: Can you describe it?
MILLER: My father had to walk. No, he was standing in front of the Torah there. My mother had to walk [inaudible] music [inaudible].

Iliinsky: Was it a big wedding?
MILLER: Yes, it was a big wedding. Probably was [inaudible] this time. I don’t remember too much anymore.

Iliinsky: Then after the wedding, you were in what grade at school?
MILLER: Fourth grade. [Inaudible] with my stepmother very, very well. We get along fine. My brother, too. We three against my sister. When she came home, we left. We were in a youth movement.

Iliinsky: What youth movement?
MILLER: [Inaudible.] Later I was Zionist, but he didn’t believe in it. 

Iliinsky: You didn’t believe in Zionism?
MILLER: Not in Germany.

Iliinsky: Because?
MILLER: I was taught this way, probably my father was taught this, my mother. They must have had the experience and they taught me, my brother and sister. As I say, I don’t know too much about it anymore. 

Iliinsky: What was the name of the youth movement?
MILLER: Camaraden [spells out].

Iliinsky: And what did you think about Zionism?
MILLER: I was brought up not to believe in anything.

Iliinsky: Anything?
MILLER: We went to the synagogue. We had all these. It was kept in my parents’ house. We were married there. My father said, “You cannot get married. Times are not too good.” My mother said, “Time will never be better [inaudible].” We got married February 22nd, 1935. Married in Cologne in ’35. Afterwards we lived in a different city. My husband had a men’s store.

Iliinsky: Did you celebrate Shabbat at home?
MILLER: No. I should have. I didn’t.

Iliinsky: Did your mother, stepmother?
MILLER: My father did this.

Iliinsky: What did he do on Shabbat?
MILLER: He went to synagogue. Food was always very good on Friday night and Saturday, Jewish food. We [inaudible].

Iliinsky: Were you allowed to go out and go for rides?
MILLER: Yes. You could drive a car wherever you wanted to. We were not that Orthodox. We had a good Jewish life, but you don’t have to be Orthodox. Besides my in-laws. They were born Jewish, but they didn’t keep anything. When we had our holidays they always came to [inaudible] Dusseldorf to Cologne. We stayed always holidays together. I missed this very much when I came to America.

Iliinsky: What did you miss?
MILLER: This Jewish life.

Iliinsky: What was the Jewish life made up of?
MILLER: We were not kosher, but the upbringing was very neutral. We knew we were Jews. I went with my father to synagogue on Friday evening and on the High Holidays. He went Saturday morning alone.

Iliinsky: Did you sit with him?
MILLER: No. Ladies and men were separated, ladies upstairs and men downstairs.

Iliinsky: What did you like about going with your father?
MILLER: I enjoyed it. Most of the time I was sitting together with my mother because children were not supposed to be there. It had to be very, very quiet. Tell this to a child. When they want to talk, they want to talk. [Inaudible] and I followed. My parents taught me if you go to the synagogue, you don’t talk. Do this and this. I kept it, the way they told me.

Iliinsky: So then you became older and went to school. You were in high school?
MILLER: This was including high school. It was a different system in Germany. Then I went to Frankfurt-am-Mein.

Iliinsky: Did you have friends who were Jews and non-Jews?
MILLER: I didn’t have too many non-Jews. It started right away with Hitler.

Iliinsky: What year was this?
MILLER: ’35.

Iliinsky: And that made a difference in your friends?
MILLER: No, I had Jewish friends and non-Jewish friends. They kept coming together with me, and I went with them [inaudible] November 9 because [inaudible]. They destroyed my husband’s store, everything. Typewriter, tore clothes.

Iliinsky: Did you have a wedding in the synagogue as well?
MILLER: Yes, ’35.

Iliinsky: In what city?
MILLER: Cologne. The first time I traveled was when I got married, to Essen.

Iliinsky: What did your family think when they heard about Hitler?
MILLER: They didn’t talk about it.

Iliinsky: Hitler coming to power?
MILLER: We didn’t talk about it.

Iliinsky: Did you have a radio?
MILLER: Yes, we had a radio.

Iliinsky: Do you remember listening on the radio?
MILLER: No. My father [inaudible], and the radio had to go to Belgium, was not allowed in Germany. We were not supposed to take the radio into a different country. My father did. He took certain chances.

Iliinsky: Do you remember your parents talking at all about Hitler, or what . . .?
MILLER: We didn’t talk much. We just left it alone. We never thought it would be that bad. Never. Might be a few, but the people I knew never thought about it. In ’35 year [inaudible].

Iliinsky: When do you first remember that it started to be a worry for people?
MILLER: I was married, and I had two children. The children were not allowed to go in the park. I went.

Iliinsky: Let me back up a little bit. You got married in Cologne and you lived in Cologne?
MILLER: No, I lived in Essen.

Iliinsky: You and your husband?
MILLER: Yes.

Iliinsky: What did your husband do?
MILLER: We had a clothing store.

Iliinsky: What was his name?
MILLER: Hans Mueller. When we came to America, they pronounced the words awful. When we became citizens, he changed it to John Miller. It was before Mueller [spells out]. People couldn’t pronounce it.

Iliinsky: Where was your husband from?
MILLER: Dusseldorf.

Iliinsky: Did he grow up in a Jewish environment?
MILLER: My in-laws were Jewish, but they didn’t keep any of the holidays. They said they enjoyed coming to my parents. They enjoyed Jewish meals with praying, but my father-in-law didn’t believe in it. It was not for me to criticize.

Iliinsky: Your husband wanted to marry you, it sounds like, in 1935?
MILLER: Yes.

Iliinsky: And it sounds like your dad was against that?
MILLER: First they wanted me to get married. Then he said, “The time’s getting worse.” My husband said, “It will never get better. We will get married.”

Iliinsky: How old were you?
MILLER 23.

Iliinsky: And you stayed in Essen?
MILLER: Yes.

Iliinsky: And what did you do when your husband worked in the clothing store?
MILLER: I was pregnant. I got a child after a year and a half. 

Iliinsky: A daughter or a son?
MILLER: A daughter.

Iliinsky: A daughter. What’s her name?
MILLER: Gaby. She works at the center. Gaby [spells out]. It’s short for Gabriele, because when a child is born, the first thing you have to do is go to the wherever you put your name down. I don’t know the word anymore for this.

Iliinsky: This was because you were Jews, you had to register her or something?
MILLER: Yes. Everything was [inaudible] to register. Jews. And then my father brought us to Berlin [spells out], and the Nazis didn’t let him. They chased him away.

Iliinsky: Tell me some more about what was new for you when the laws were passed for Jews.
MILLER: At that time, we were not supposed to go to movies, parks, but we did, my husband and I.  When he left in ’39, I went. I had two small children.

Iliinsky: Were you frightened?
MILLER: Yes, [when the sirens went on?] the Second World War. I remember it a little bit from the First World War.

Iliinsky: When you went places where you weren’t supposed to go, what was that like?
MILLER: The parks. I told my daughter don’t say anything where your father is. She said, “My father is in America.” “Why?” “Oh, he has to do some business.” I didn’t [inaudible] that we were Jewish. We were not afraid at that time, but I didn’t have to volunteer anything. Tell this to children. My son never did, but my daughter, she’s exactly like her father in everything. They say the first born is with the father and the second born is with the mother.

Iliinsky: What were the relationships like between you and non-Jewish people?
MILLER: I didn’t have non-Jewish people friends. I had the children, one after the other, 17 months apart. I didn’t have time.

Iliinsky: For any friends, or just non-Jewish?
MILLER: No, for any friends. I didn’t have enough time.

Iliinsky: What did you do with the children?
MILLER: I kept them home. Then my husband left for America in ’39. The American Consul told us, “You and your husband can go out, but not your small children.” My son was about 13 months and Gaby was three.

Iliinsky: So between 1935 and 1939 when he left, did you talk about how we should get out of here?
MILLER: We knew already in ’35 what was ahead of us.

Iliinsky: What did you know?
MILLER: That they wanted to kill us, that they wanted to put us in concentration camp.

Iliinsky: How did you know that?
MILLER: People talk. 

Iliinsky: Who?
MILLER: In ’35 they took every Jewish man and put him in a concentration camp. In the city where we lived, they shake the Jews. My husband had a very bad heart condition. Essen was the only city where they didn’t.

Iliinsky: Shake them?
MILLER: No, where they didn’t have to go to a concentration camp. They were checked by a doctor.

Iliinsky: Checked by a doctor. Why didn’t that happen in Essen?
MILLER: I don’t know. It was all over Germany. All the cities, small and big ones.

Iliinsky: And . . .?
MILLER: He was in jail. He was not in a concentration camp.

Iliinsky: How did you know that they were trying to kill Jews? How did you find that out?
MILLER: People talked, so we finally found out.

Iliinsky: Did you listen to the radio or newspaper?
MILLER: No, I had no time.

Iliinsky: Did your husband?
MILLER: Yes, he knew more than I did. 

Iliinsky: Did you believe him when he told you?
MILLER: Yes. With two children, you’re too busy. And close together.

Iliinsky: Were you worried for your children, or mostly your husband?
MILLER: I was worried about us all, every Jew. Naturally, my family were the closest ones. I was worried about my parents, and my brother. He lived and worked in South Africa, Cape Town. And he was fighting in [?] and taken prisoner during the war. He never admitted that he was Jewish. He never admitted he could speak German. If they would have found out, it was in Africa [inaudible] people speak German.

Iliinsky: You were communicating with your parents at that time about things getting worse.
MILLER: As I say, it was ’38 because — and then I picked, I don’t know why, I picked a very close number for going to America.

Iliinsky: Wait a minute. Let’s back up a little bit here. Did your parents want you to leave the country or stay?
MILLER: They didn’t want us both to leave. It was a matter of life or death.

Iliinsky: I don’t understand.
MILLER: They wouldn’t have gone. My husband, he would have been dead. They just killed the Jews.

Iliinsky: So they encouraged you to go, your parents?
MILLER: I didn’t ask them; I asked my husband.

Iliinsky: Did your parents know you were planning on leaving?
MILLER: [Inaudible] because [inaudible] had the car. One Sunday we drove to Cologne, and one Sunday we drove to my in-laws. We were talking about what we were going to do. They knew quite well.

Iliinsky: What was the plan with your husband?
MILLER: After we found out the children couldn’t go, I told him, “You better go because it’s dangerous for you, and not the children and me.”

Iliinsky: And the children couldn’t go because?
MILLER: The American Consul said they can not leave.

Iliinsky: How was it that the American Consul said it was OK for your husband to go?
MILLER: My husband and me, but not the small children. Leave small children home.

Iliinsky: Is that because you had a relative in the United States?
MILLER: Yes, a cousin of my father in New York. I never met him, but he gave us the affidavit.

Iliinsky: What was the plan for your husband to go?
MILLER: All Jewish men were persecuted, either put in concentration camps or kept in jail.

Iliinsky: Did he have to sneak out, or did he just travel openly? How?
MILLER: He had a visa in Germany that he could leave. He left over in the Netherlands. In the Netherlands — I don’t know the name anymore. Big, big boat.

Iliinsky: What was that like for you?
MILLER: It was awful to live alone with two small children. I had to go get more information how to get out. Always “not your children.” That was new. [If you take? Or if they are not?] your children, they punish you. No normal parents would leave without their children. I came ’41 to the States, April first.

Iliinsky: Wait. Let’s go back to ’39, ’38. Where were you on Kristallnacht?
MILLER: Home. In Essen. My husband went to his parents to protect them a little bit too. We didn’t know [inaudible] everything. They didn’t damage anything. We didn’t even know what went on.

Iliinsky: Your parents didn’t tell you?
MILLER: My husband found out.

Iliinsky: You were in Essen?
MILLER: Essen, and he left for Dusseldorf. His parents were living there.

Iliinsky: Did anything happen on that night in Essen?
MILLER: Yes, they broke our apartment. Everything. Kaput. They did so much damage you couldn’t even repair anymore. I had a very nice apartment, but you had no rights in Germany when you’re Jewish. You kept everything to yourself.

Iliinsky: So what did you do when your apartment was destroyed?
MILLER: We went back again and had everything refurnished so we could live there.

Iliinsky: And the synagogue in Essen?
MILLER: I never went to the synagogue there. I went in Cologne.

Iliinsky: What happened to it on Kristallnacht?
MILLER: Same as in every city. They burned and demolished synagogues. I had no connection anymore. During the war they used the synagogues for houses. I found out everything later. We didn’t know much in America.

Iliinsky: So between ’39 and ’41 when you left, what was your life like?
MILLER: I lived one year with my parents. [Inaudible] I asked them, [inaudible] and with two children, too. My father was a walker, and he asked my daughter, “Do you want to walk with me?” She said, “No, my feet hurt.” Her little brother walked. My father walked a lot, very healthy, and the proud grandfather showed his little grandchild.

Iliinsky: What were your parents doing about the condition of the Jews?
MILLER: Nothing.

Iliinsky: Did they try to get out?
MILLER: Yes, they tried. They couldn’t get out.

Iliinsky: What did they do? How did they try?
MILLER: You have to have a visa. They couldn’t get a visa. They had no other country where they could go. Couldn’t do anything. About Israel, my father always said, “I don’t go there because the Arabs cut my throat.” [Inaudible sentence.] Every Sunday we either drove to my parents or to his parents. They wanted to see the grandchildren, naturally. My husband left.

Iliinsky: Did either sets of parents talk about what they were going to do?
MILLER: No. They did not talk because you had no chance [choice?] to talk. You couldn’t mention any names, buildings, or streets, or city. If you were caught, it was the end of you. You had to be very — you had to know what to do. One Jew spoke to the other and gave them information. When [inaudible], my father had to do work in furniture. They forced him to work there.

Iliinsky: How did that happen? 
MILLER: My parents wrote me about it, that he had to work. They took him, not a volunteer. They ordered him to go there and do work for nothing.

Iliinsky: Was he arrested one night?
MILLER: Yes, during the day time he was arrested. We were in America already when this happened. All the letters that came from Germany were opened. You had to be careful what you say and not to say. When it was over in Germany [inaudible].

Iliinsky: Do you remember wearing a yellow star?
MILLER: No. On the day my father brought us to Berlin, we left the children and I, he had to wear a star. Jewish star. And underneath, Jude. But we didn’t have. Besides my passport, we got the name — female Sarah, and the male, Israel. When I had my passport, and for the children too, it was quite a lot to write. Jewish, and then Sarah. And then the children. The passport is only so big. I squeezed it in. Don’t ask me how I did it. You can do a lot of things if you’re forced to.

Iliinsky: The Germans gave you the name Sarah?
MILLER: The Nazis. The German Nazis.

Iliinsky: When you went to leave the country?
MILLER: In ’39 I started. I wanted to get out. But the American Consul didn’t do anything. They didn’t even answer when my husband wrote a letter from America. From Florida he wrote there [inaudible]. Very simple answer. You remember the name of Claude Pepper from Florida? You’re too young for that. He appoints the Consul and he sent a letter. He did other things for Jewish people. He was not Jewish. Then I got action. I came out. I was lucky enough to go. We were Japan or the other way, seven days. I came straight [through Lisbon?]. In Spain there was no more breakout, so my daughter said, “The war is over.” I said, “No, it’s not over.”

Iliinsky: So you got a visa for yourself, or for you and the children?
MILLER: For me and the children. As I say, I would have never left even if we end up in concentration camp. This was informed of me. Then they talked to me. Why don’t you give your children a different religion? What’s the difference? I’m Jewish. They tried to do everything, tried to kill them. And I didn’t. I was lucky to get out. The 30 [or dirty?] German spies. A friend of my husband, he was in Scotland Yard, he told me after 10 years about the 30 German spies. They were caught and ended up in Australia.

Iliinsky: So how old were you and the children when you left?
MILLER: I was 29. Gaby was four years, and my son turned three in Spain. They were only 17 months apart.

Iliinsky: Care for some water?
MILLER: Thank you.

MILLER: We arrived in New York. We came over with the boat. They weren’t flying so much at that time.

Iliinsky: Do you remember the name of the boat?
MILLER: Exeter. It was an American export line I came with.

Iliinsky: Were there many other Jews coming with you?
MILLER: Mostly all refugees.

Iliinsky: How many? Do you remember?
MILLER: The boat was not too big — a hundred. Could be 120, 130, but that’s all there was.

Iliinsky: Did you make friends with anybody?
MILLER: I couldn’t. I stayed with my son. Once I went to have dinner with the captain.  “Mrs. Mueller, your children call you.” It was the end. I was mostly in the cabin, and Gaby was left alone, so I told the other passengers should wait a little bit. Watch her. And for some reason, I walked out, and to the anchor there was my daughter locked in. She would have suffocated.

Iliinsky: Where was she?
MILLER: On the boat. There were lockers. She wanted to see how it is. I saw her doing this and I took it off. They had her in the same cabin as my son was. They said I had no control. [These sentences are somewhat garbled, hard to be sure exactly what Miller is saying.]

Iliinsky: And you went to Spain?
MILLER: Yes, we went by train to Spain. The Germans locked the cars. I couldn’t get anything to drink for my son, [inaudible] a fever. Injection from the smallpox. It acted very, very bad with him. I couldn’t do anything.

Iliinsky: How long did it take you to get from Germany to Spain?
MILLER: Ten hours. Have to see France first. France was German at that time. They conquered France. Spain’s people opened the doors. My son celebrated his third birthday in Spain.

Iliinsky: Was it a passenger car you went in?
MILLER: No, it was a train. It was locked. The Germans locked the trains.

Iliinsky: And there was no water? Food?
MILLER: Just what I had with me.

Iliinsky: For ten days?
MILLER: No, it was seven days. When we came to Lisbon it was six days. It was the first time I saw colored people. I said I thought they forgot to wash. In German. I was very embarrassed when I said that. They didn’t have colored people in Germany. It was logical to ask if they forgot to wash.

Iliinsky: What happened when you got to Spain then?
MILLER: I had to wait five days for the boat to go to America.

Iliinsky: Where did you wait?
MILLER: In Lisbon. It was a city, main city for Spain. I forgot the name.

Iliinsky: What kind of building did you wait in?
MILLER: We waited five days before we could go to the boat. My son was very, very sick, and a young man talked with me [friend. I bet it was a spy?] This way they wouldn’t be found so fast. So he helped me get my son on the boat. If I would have told about my son, they would have said, “You can’t go.” So he helped me. Nothing was said about it.

Iliinsky: Did you wait in an apartment building? What kind of holding facility were you in?
MILLER: A [line?] from Portugal paid everything for us. The motel. At that time we had already motel, where we had to wait five days, which was very, very bad. And they gave us food too.

Iliinsky: Did your son get any medication?
MILLER: Then we were on the boat. We left Lisbon. I called the doctor finally, and I told him it seems to be a reaction from the smallpox. He gave him castor oil. I was so disgusted. A child with 105 fever, you don’t give castor oil. He wanted ten dollars, which I didn’t have.

Iliinsky: Where was this doctor from?
MILLER: On the boat. Each boat had to have a doctor. I called him. They couldn’t send me back anymore. We worked out every little thing.

Iliinsky: So what happened with your son?
MILLER: He recovered. We were ten days on the ship. He had plenty of time to recover. As I say, I never left him alone. It was very, very rough.

Iliinsky: What was rough about it?
MILLER: I couldn’t be myself. I couldn’t do anything. I had to stay in the cabin where the children were. I didn’t trust my daughter anymore outside. She locked herself in the [inaudible]. I just stayed there. The food was brought to the cabin. Ten days later, we arrived in New York. Some people didn’t have a visa; they had to go to, not Coney Island, the other, where they had to check can they stay in America. I had a regular visa for the children and for me. Then we stayed five days in New York with some people we knew from Essen.

Iliinsky: Did you go through Ellis Island?
MILLER: Because I had my visa. If you didn’t have a visa, you had to go to Coney [?] Island.

Iliinsky: So the first day you arrived in New York, what happened?
MILLER: We went through customs, and a friend from Essen — he was our doctor — he picked us up, and we stayed five days with them.

Iliinsky: What was his name?
MILLER Schien [spells out]. He showed us. I was so tired anyway. I wasn’t much into it, but I had to pretend. 

Iliinsky: Pretend?
MILLER: Pretend that I was very interested. I was dead tired. Sometimes we have to do things, whether we like it or not.

Iliinsky: So this was still 1941. What time of year, what season was it?
MILLER: April. And my husband was in Florida, sent by the Jewish committee from New York. He stayed at a Jewish fraternity. They taught him English, and he taught them German. He didn’t have to pay anything for two years. But he was waiting for us. He couldn’t understand why I didn’t give any answer.

Iliinsky: Did he know you were coming?
MILLER: Yes. I sent a letter when we were coming from New York. We went to Florida. The city where he lived was Gainesville. The trains stop in the middle of the city. I’ve never seen it before. My husband sent me $15. I had to buy some shoes. Both children had rags on their feet. I couldn’t buy anything. Then my mother-in-law made some pants for my son from her husband.

Iliinsky: Back in Germany?
MILLER: My in-laws were back in Germany. For the trip, my mother-in-law made some pants. But everything was [wrecked? wet?]. I used the $15 to buy some shoes for both children. I had $1.50 left. I said I’ll buy myself a hat. At that time flowerbox was the style. My husband was surprised to see me with a hat. I explained it to him. It was mentioned later on in the paper that we arrived and the happy family was together again.

Iliinsky: Did you stay in Florida?
MILLER: Yes, in Gainesville.

Iliinsky: Did you have contact with your parents and in-laws?
MILLER: Yes, they wrote back to us until the war broke out, December 7th. They were sent to someplace. We never found out where. My two brothers, the one in South Africa, and the other in Israel, were fighting under the English. My brother was taken prisoner from [Tuborg?].  And my husband had a grocery store. Jewish people helped him. You get a [inaudible word], some money. He had some credit so he could buy a grocery store. Men from Germany, they’re not trained to be — men don’t cook or do anything in the kitchen. It was not religious. They didn’t want to. When we came to Florida, my husband was there. A few days later, he said, “Do me a favor and cook like you cooked in Germany. You have everything here what you need.” For two years I didn’t have anything hardly, so I cooked kind of poor. He said, “You can have anything you want. Cook that way again.” It was tough.

Iliinsky: Did you remember how to cook?
MILLER: I knew how to cook. If you can’t do anything, you don’t do anything. If you get away from that. As I said, I stayed the last year with my parents.

Iliinsky: What happened to your sister?
MILLER: My sister was sent in ’39 to London.

Iliinsky: By whom?
MILLER: My parents. At that time England was very generous and let people come, and the children were sent to in order to keep living.

Iliinsky: Your sister’s children?
MILLER: No, no. She had none. I’m the only one who has children.

Iliinsky: Oh, you mean Jewish children.
MILLER: Yes.

Iliinsky: What happened during the rest of the war? You were here. What kind of communication did you have?
MILLER: I had no more communication with my parents. On December 7th, I got a postal card from my father, “We have to be there and there.” We made it out before I left, that my father would write, “We have to go there and there.” It makes it harder. It doesn’t mean anything. I knew they were there for [inaudible word].

Iliinsky: Where did he go?
MILLER: They never found out. I didn’t hear anything anymore. My two brothers, as I said before, they were English. One lived in Cape Town; the other lived in Israel. They tried to find anything about the parents. Either they were shot or killed or something. We never found out.

Iliinsky: And your grandparents?
MILLER: They died before. My grandmother, she had breast surgery, and then they took her to a concentration camp. You know what they did right away — they killed her. I don’t have many non-Jewish friends here. Mostly Jewish. It went with me. Couldn’t get rid of that. I have a good friend here at the house. The lady, she came from Breslau. We talked about. We do it together.

Iliinsky: Don’t touch the microphone.
MILLER: I’m sorry.

Iliinsky: It’s OK. So your grandmother went to have an operation . . .?
MILLER: Breast surgery. And they took her right away in concentration camp. They didn’t live very long. She was 80 years old. They killed older people, children. The older children they could use for work, but the small children. If my children would have gone to concentration camp, they would have been killed right away.

Iliinsky: How did you find out what happened to your grandmother?
MILLER: I have a cousin who lives in England, London. He found out. Don’t ask me how he found out.

Iliinsky: What’s his name?
MILLER: Heinz Marx. But I’m not in contact anymore with him because he brought up all the things. His father was exactly my age. We played together but didn’t play with him; he was four years younger. When you’re eight years, four years is an awful lot. We still talked, but what happened was my father married again. He was drunk anyway when he told me this. He told me once too often. He could have flown often to Portland from England, but I don’t see him. I can take only so much. That’s the limit.

Iliinsky: So you settled in Florida?
MILLER: For eight months, and then they had cockroaches, which you have here too. But I couldn’t take the heat anymore. Besides my doctor in Germany told me, “If you go to Florida, you lose your teeth.” My son took most of my calcium out of my body. I couldn’t take the heat continuously in Florida. Then I told my husband, “We’re going to Portland.” He had a friend here, to Oregon we went.

Iliinsky: So far away!
MILLER: I wrote a letter to my parents [I went up?] the Indians. In Germany they had a thing for this part of the west of America — all Indians. I let them know.

Iliinsky: In what year did you move to Portland?
MILLER: In ’41. It was November or October. It was three days on the train. Air conditioned train from Florida. When we arrived in Chicago, the children were shivering, cold and everything. And then, Portland wasn’t much warmer. We lived in one room, all four. There was cooking. You had to be a little bit careful so you didn’t have to smell everything you’re eating.

Iliinsky: What was the reaction of people in Portland when they knew you were Jews who had fled Germany?
MILLER: The American Jews were not very nice. They didn’t want to have anything to do with us.

Iliinsky: Tell me about that.
MILLER: Somebody told my husband, why don’t you join a Jewish lodge? I forgot the name. My husband didn’t. He was an easygoing type. He made friends pretty fast with people. He mastered the English language and everything. Nobody talked to him. The American Jews, they were not too good for us during the war. They didn’t want to see us; they didn’t want to hear us. You felt like were still in Germany.

Iliinsky: Tell me some stories about that.
MILLER: They were always talking against me [?]. We could live only in South Portland. We couldn’t get an apartment with two children; it’s very hard to find an apartment. It was still ’41, and then on a Sunday news came that Japan had attacked Pearl Harbor. We didn’t know what Pearl Harbor meant. I remember we were in a walk away with some friends. We lived in one room. We didn’t have more money. And then — the drugs start working [?] — from all the churches, and they asked the boys over. But not for Japan [?]. Then came the atom bomb. We did not know enough about it to criticize it.

Iliinsky: In Portland, were you given any help by any Jewish committee or anything?
MILLER: No. No. Nothing.

Iliinsky: Where did the money come from?
MILLER: The Jewish family, when we sold the store. My husband asked do you want some money back [inaudible]. No, use it for the trip wherever you go. So we had $300. At that time, money went to good use for a long, long purpose. We lived in one room. The Jews they didn’t do much for us. There could have been saved so many people if America would have made a little more effort. England was much better. I hate to say it. England was much finer [?] in thinking. You had to forget about the war and everything; you cannot live with hate. Maybe some people can. We couldn’t. So we built up our lives again. My husband got the first job. He was bellboy at the Carlton Hotel. The hotel doesn’t exist anymore. It was on Washington Street. He was 34 years old. I was 29 when I came to America. I stayed home with the children. Then I got a job, had to bring the children to the nursery first. It was a shipyard job they were offering. No car. I had to do everything by bus. I had a job. I had to be at work at 8:00 AM. One child got sick; the other got sick too. I gave up my job.

Iliinsky: What job was it? Where did you work?
MILLER: Watch people. It was a big factory. Watch people. I [inaudible] the King’s English in school, different than here. I worked a few days, and then somebody got sick of the children, and I quit working. I had no family here; my sister came in ’47 to America, and I asked her to watch my son who had a very, very bad cold. My sister is not very patient. She has no children. We are the only ones with children. My son wanted to play a game. “OK, I’ll play with you if you don’t pull your nose out all the time [?].” Then my son did, and she gave a with a hand. He told us right away what happened. Then Martin said he is somebody’s children [?]. I don’t want you to do this. She’s never patient with children. If you have no children of your own, naturally.

Iliinsky: So do you remember the name of the street you lived on when you first came to Portland?
MILLER: It doesn’t exist anymore. There’s a parking lot and a church. That’s all that I can tell you. It was on 12th Avenue Southwest.

Iliinsky: After the war, what sort of work did your husband do here?
MILLER: He worked for a company. I forgot the name. Then he was [inaudible] of shoes. Leeds was one name. I forgot the second name. He was assistant manager. When the war broke out, it finished. [Inaudible.] “You with the accent; you cannot stay with us.”  It was [inaudible] for years. He was so disgusted, so he said, “Let’s buy a grocery store. Nobody can kick us out.” He [inaudible] with me. We had $700. We had to have $4,700. He put all his money. Some people from Germany brought money out, big money. We knew exactly who did and who did not. As I said, I didn’t bring anything. The children had a little rucksack to put their underclothes in. Nothing. We got the $4,000 plus the interest. In one year we paid out $4,000. I was ready to go with Martin to get up at 5:00 AM in the morning. Fix the vegetables, everything, and then I came there 10:00 AM. We stayed there all day, and I was home at quarter to seven. Sometimes you cannot tell exactly, [inaudible]. You cannot tell I have to leave. The children were already foreign, “Where’s Mom?” 

Iliinsky: What was the name of your store?
MILLER: It was on Broadway and Harrison. Miller’s Merchant Market [inaudible]. We were there 17 years. What we worked we had. Still was open seven days a week. We had a night man. He was Jewish, and he asked us whether he can go on Friday evening to synagogue. Martin said, “Naturally, I will work. You will not work. I I’m a very poor sleeper anyway.” I was there from 7:00 PM in the evening until 12:00 AM. When I went home, there was a policeman out there who brought me home. We lived across from Shattuck School. [Inaudible] trouble I should be. I must have wondered if somebody brings me home.

Iliinsky: I want to pause a minute and ask Eric or Lanie if they have any questions they want to ask.
MILLER: OK.

[They change places.]

Harper: I want to ask you some questions, but I want to go quite far back. First of all, where were your grandparents born?
MILLER: In Cologne.

Harper: As well as your parents?
MILLER: Yes.

Harper: And do you know how long your family had been in Germany?
MILLER: 1550. My father once found — I think somebody helped him, but he found out we were in Germany since 1500. Something. I don’t know. We thought we were pure German, but Mr. Hitler decided different.

Harper: And you said your father fought in World War I?
MILLER: He volunteered.

Harper: Where did he fight?
MILLER: In [Trea?]. He was there when he was injured. 

Harper: Did he receive any medals?
MILLER: Yes, he got the Golden Cross. It was a big honor.

Harper: Did he wear it around?
MILLER: No, a Jew didn’t do that, advertised that he got the Golden Cross. No. He was injured, and although he stayed in [Trea?]. It was Germany. They were in a hospital there. Soldiers could go. He was in a private home. That’s all. And when he wanted a doctor, he had to go. The doctor didn’t come to him.

Harper: Can you tell me when you first heard of Hitler?
MILLER: 1933. We [inaudible] 1935, but [inaudible] start coming ’33.

Harper: Did you hear about his putsch in Munich in the ’20s?
MILLER: No. Maybe I knew, but I forgot about it.

Harper: But 1933 was the first time you really heard.
MILLER: Yes, I really heard. I wanted to start home economics, and he didn’t let me. I was working with Jewish homes, but still I couldn’t do it.

Harper: So in 1933 you were about 21, right? How old were you when you finished your schooling?
MILLER: 15.

Harper: 15. So what did you do between 15 and 21? Did you work?
MILLER: Yes. I studied Home Economics. I was for one year in Frankfurt-am-Mein. I was at a school.

Harper: Was it a school to learn home economics? Like a trade school?
MILLER: Yes, like a trade school. And then I went for one year to Hamburg and worked in a hospital to get more experience.

Harper: What year was that?
MILLER: I’m not 100% sure. It must have been ’33, because ’35 we got married.

Harper: Your coworkers or schoolmates in the home economics school, how did they feel about you being Jewish? Did they care?
MILLER: It was a Jewish school I went to. Had no trouble. When I went to Hamburg, at the hospital, nobody talked about it. Very narrow-minded people talked about it, especially the women. They were worse than the men. [Inaudible] saw Hitler. They always said [inaudible]. I didn’t see anything. By coincidence, I saw him. It was at Essen, at the Rose parade. I couldn’t get in, couldn’t get out, so I had to stand there.

Harper: What year was this parade?
MILLER: Before I got married, ’35.

Harper: Tell me more about the parade?
MILLER: It was long, and “Heil Hitler” and all this with the hands. Lots of music, and then I went away. I didn’t want to see more.

Harper: People just came out on the street and watched?
MILLER: Yes, and walked with him, especially the women.

Harper: So you saw him close?
MILLER: In Essen I saw him close. That was the end for me. I never saw him again. Movies you couldn’t go. I went once. We were not supposed to go in parks. I went with both children. What can you do with children if you can’t go to a park? You can’t keep them all the time in an apartment.

Harper: During 1935, where did you live?
MILLER: Cologne.

Harper: In an apartment?
MILLER: Yes, but the house belonged to my grandparents. We had quite a big apartment.

Harper: Were you friendly with your neighbors in that building?
MILLER: Yes, we never had any trouble.

Harper: Even after 1935, did they treat you differently?
MILLER: No, no. They knew us and we knew them. It was very friendly conversation. We didn’t pay attention. Besides, there were two Jewish families living in the house. We exchanged views. It was bad after ’38.

Harper: People stopped talking to you?
MILLER: Yes.

Harper: Can you think of any friends that you had that suddenly stopped talking to you?
MILLER: I had mostly Jewish friends. We knew [inaudible] Jewish friends. I had one girlfriend, she was Catholic. She didn’t like [inaudible] either, but I didn’t dare to talk with her about it. There might be somebody who listened. You didn’t know if they’re listening. It can happen if they take you, never let you go again. They kill you.

Harper: If I could ask you again about Kristallnacht, you were in Essen?
MILLER: Yes, we lived in Essen with both children, and my husband went to his parents in Dusseldorf for the night. Then he came back and we had to sit outside in the street. It was November, very cold.

Harper: So you saw people breaking things up. Did people come into your house?
MILLER: We had an apartment, not a house. 

Harper: They broke into your . . .
MILLER: And we had a store. They broke everything. Downtown, they had a men’s store. My in-laws gave it to us as a wedding present, the store. Very generous. I never worked there.

Harper: This is a strange question, but how did that make you feel? What was the reaction of the Jewish community to that?
MILLER: In Essen?

Harper: Yes.
MILLER: I could never go there because I had the children [inaudible]. My husband went quite often.

Harper: No, no, no. What was the reaction of the Jewish community to the violence on Kristallnacht?
MILLER: Nobody talked about it. We were all afraid to talk about it. Maybe there was somebody not Jewish, a spy among the Jews. We were very careful what we talked.

Harper: Did it scare you?
MILLER: You got used to whatever happened. It was every day something else happened. My thought was let’s get out of Cologne. You have to have a number when you’re called to the American Consul. And you have to undress yourself completely, and you have to walk up and down, up and down. I don’t know this has anything to do with immigration. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t dare to say anything. You just listened. My mother went with me when we went to Stuttgart where I got the visa. This time we didn’t ask if I would have taken a plane to Genoa, Italy. I don’t know if I would have. At that time they didn’t take planes like they would today. Probably ended up in Italy, would have been killed too.

Harper: Did you know anyone who was arrested during Kristallnacht?
MILLER:  Yes, plenty. The lady upstairs, her husband was for four weeks in concentration camp.

Harper: Do you know which one?
MILLER: I never asked. She told me. I didn’t ask questions. He had full hair, and they shaved it all off.

Harper: Did you say your husband was arrested?
MILLER: No.

Harper: He was never arrested?
MILLER: No. In Essen they were all checked by doctors if they were healthy and have to go to concentration camp. My husband had a heart condition.

Harper: He failed the test, so he didn’t have to go?
MILLER: But they put him in jail.

Harper: So he was arrested?
MILLER: [Inaudible] in Essen.

Harper: Was he arrested on Kristallnacht?
MILLER: After.

Harper: How many days after?
MILLER: A few months later.

Harper: Why was he arrested?
MILLER: Because he was Jewish.

Harper: How long was he in jail?
MILLER: A month at the one time.

Harper: How did he get out?
MILLER: They let him go.

Harper: They just let him go?
MILLER: Just let him go. They had no reason whatever they did.

Harper: Did you try to get him out?
MILLER: Yes.

Harper: What did you do?
MILLER: I went in Essen to the German Consulate. I couldn’t do anything. They were very rough there.

Harper: I just want to get this straight. You and your husband decided to leave Germany around 1935, is that right?
MILLER: No, in’35 we got married.

Harper: When did you first think about . . .?
MILLER: ’38.

Harper: ’38. So he got a visa, but you . . .?
MILLER: We got a visa together.

Harper: OK. But since you had to leave the children, you didn’t want to go.
MILLER: No.

Harper: So your husband left.
MILLER: It was more important for him than for me. The Gestapo was raging all over.

Harper: Right. Did you talk about, OK, you go and we’ll be reunited later?
MILLER: There was nobody around. You better go. I wasn’t [inaudible] at that time.

Harper: Was the arrangement that you would eventually come to America?
MILLER: Yes, that was the arrangement, but the American Consulate didn’t do it. He didn’t keep his word.

Harper: But that’s what your husband thought. He knew that you were going to be reunited in America.
MILLER: He thought so.

Harper: So he just wasn’t leaving and, “Oh, I don’t know what’s going to happen to you. See you later.”  It wasn’t like that?
MILLER: No, I talked with him. [Inaudible] the Gestapo will take [inaudible] end up too. We thought in a few months, you would be in America too. Took two years.

Harper: So he left in ’39.
MILLER: Yes, American exporter. The Holland Line.

Harper: What date?
MILLER: It was in June. I don’t know the date anymore. We were at the train, my daughter and I.

Harper: The invasion in Poland began in September, 1939. How did your life change?
MILLER: No. In ’40 we went to my parents. We didn’t have money. We couldn’t [go in air shelter?] either. My father and I stood at the window and watched the lights when they crossed the planes and everything. When they came at 6:00 PM in the evening, they went to Berlin. If they came at 9:00, the came for [inaudible].

Harper: You’re talking about Allied bombers?
MILLER: No. It was the Germans.

Harper: They were flying over? Flying to Poland?
MILLER: No, they came from England. The English force. It was ’39. America couldn’t get in yet, and then they attacked Pearl Harbor. Then they were in.

Harper: Are you talking about English planes were bombing your city?
MILLER: Yes. We were the enemy. It was a big laugh, meeting with Hitler [inaudible]. He was the premier from England?

Harper: Chamberlain?
MILLER: Chamberlain, yes. The agreement was nothing. He fell for the talk from Hitler, and then they attacked. I was alone already when all this happened. ’37, ’38. The war started in ’38 [inaudible]. I remember the First World War a little bit. And I had the small children. They were there in a stroller. One night somebody chased me. I was nervous. Jews had no rights. I knew something would come.

Harper: After Kristallnacht, and after the beginning of World War II, did conditions for you become more difficult?
MILLER: Yes.

Harper: How?
MILLER: First thing food. I got stamps, and very few stamps, to buy for the children mostly. I ate whatever was left. In the long run I couldn’t have [inaudible], but for me it was more important that the children get their proper food. When we came to America we didn’t have any money. When we came back from Florida to Portland, my husband and I, we drank water, but the children had their milk. As I say, I never talk about it. It’s not very good in my mind.

Harper: After your husband left, during the years 1938 and 1939, were you afraid to walk in the streets?
MILLER: Yes.

Harper: Why?
MILLER: People think you’re Jewish, and my daughter couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “My father’s in America.” Right here in America people ask me [inaudible]. I gave this answer. I couldn’t say the truth. I told Gaby time and again, “Keep your mouth shut.” And she started talking [inaudible]. I couldn’t be there all the time. It came out.

Harper: Do you remember the year 1940 anything significant happening to you?
MILLER: In ’40 I was still in Germany. I stayed with my parents that year. When the war broke out, [and inaudible] the sirens and everything. I knew this was war. A Jew, you knew it was war.

Harper: Did you feel more in danger?
MILLER: Yes, I felt more because my husband was away. I had to watch the two children alone, which was very, very tough for me. Children don’t know any fear. The bombs came in the night, and “Why is there so much noise outside?” I told them that there was a wedding and they’re celebrating. It was rather nice for them. It just came to my mind. When they ask you, you have to have an answer ready so they’ll believe you. I kept them quiet this way.

Harper: You said your parents had to wear a yellow star?
MILLER: My father. My mother, probably she too had to wear one, if my father had to wear one.

Harper: What year was that?
MILLER: ’41.

Harper: Did you have to wear one?
MILLER: No, I just came out [formally?].

Harper: Can you tell me what the star looked like?
MILLER: Like a Jewish star.

Harper: What color was it?
MILLER: I don’t know. I’ve never seen it, only in pictures. It means Jews, in German, “Jude.” We didn’t dare to go without it.

Harper: How big was it?
MILLER: They could see it.

Harper: Was it sewn on, or pinned on?
MILLER: Sewn on. Couldn’t take it off.

Harper: Did you see lots of people in the street wearing them?
MILLER: As I say, some Nazis in Berlin, they left for America. I didn’t see too much because in ’41, it wasn’t so much. Afterwards.

Harper: Did you know anyone who was deported at that time, while you were still in the country?
MILLER: Yes, the Polish people. They were the first deported, ’38 I think, before the war started.

Harper: Did you have any Jewish friends or relatives . . .?
MILLER: I had only Jewish friends.

Harper: Did you know anyone who was deported? Not Polish people, but German Jewish people, did you know anyone?
MILLER: No, not in my town. I didn’t know. It was better if you didn’t ask. This family, or this family, they had a plan in Cologne. Who’s Jewish, who’s not Jewish? They went from door to door and took them out. That was the end of them.

Harper: Did you know that Jewish people were beginning to be rounded up and deported to the east?
MILLER: Yes. People who saw told the other Jews. It was a kind of communication. They knew, but they didn’t know enough.

Harper: Did your parents try to get out?
MILLER: Yes, they tried to go to Israel, but my mother, who was my second mother, had a son from her first marriage, and her husband died in the First World War. They wanted to go to Israel. Nothing doing.

Harper: They couldn’t get the visa?
MILLER: No. My mother’s brother said they were a more poor Jewish family that came from Israel [?]. I found it out much later. I didn’t know anything about it. 

Harper: Were your parents scared? Did they know what was awaiting them?
MILLER: I left with my children. My mother wrote that father was crying all the time. He knew what was going on because one Jewish family lived in the house and they were deported. The woman was first. My father brought me to Berlin. All of a sudden it was a different address [?]. You didn’t dare ask what happened, why the bombs fell on the house and demolished it. Never anything happened to my mother, but I couldn’t ask because the mail didn’t go through anymore.

Harper: At the train station, did you know that that was the last time you would see your parents?
MILLER: Yes. It was very, very sad. The Germans pulled my father away. The Jews don’t do anything. They didn’t understand how a father can feel for his children. And you didn’t dare to open your mouth, because they pulled you and you came back from a concentration camp. The Jews kept their mouths closed. It’s tough. I didn’t talk. I told my daughter, “Keep your mouth closed. Don’t talk about Daddy.” I told them when we were still in Germany what happened to him. She was three and a half; my son was just two. They are 17 months apart. You didn’t dare to talk too much because you don’t know with children. They might say something and get me in trouble. You said very, very little. Just what I had to do.

Harper: When you came to Portland — well, first of all, you left Portugal on a boat in what month?
MILLER: March.

Harper: 1941?
MILLER: Yes, the beginning of March. We arrived on April 1st in America.

Harper: When you moved to Portland, were you a resident alien?
MILLER: Yes. They took our citizenship away, the Nazis, so we were nothing.

Harper: In the United States, were you called a resident alien? Did you have restrictions on you?
MILLER: Yes. We could only go so far, and we had to stay in 8:00 PM. We were some time in Longview. My husband worked there. Something happened. [Inaudible] during World War II. Somebody didn’t close the [inaudible] and kicked my husband out. You dirty alien. You did this. He didn’t do it. But you have no right.

Harper: Did you have to carry a special paper?
MILLER: We had no paper. American passport. I gave it to a man here from Portland who took care of it. Do you know Mr. Lindy? We couldn’t go to Germany anymore. I had it still from the boat and everything. He was [inaudible word], couldn’t go back to Germany anymore.

Harper: Did you say you lived in South Portland?
MILLER: Yes.

Harper: For how long?
MILLER: Three or four years. 

Harper: Three or four years?
MILLER: Yes, we came to Portland. We shared the [inaudible] old house Blor [?]. Does the name say anything to you?

Harper; What’s the name?
MILLER Blor [?]. We shared the kitchen. They were strict. Very, very kosher, but very dirty. Kosher for me is clean. My daughter got very sick. I called the doctor. She went two days to school and came home like a flu. We called the doctor. It was more than flu; she had meningitis. She caught it from some kids and after ten days [inaudible]. We have another child. He’s in the nursery. “Don’t you know how dangerous meningitis is?” I said, “No, we didn’t have it in Germany.”

Harper: Did you join a synagogue?
MILLER: Yes.

Harper: Which one?
MILLER: Neveh Sholom.

Harper: You mentioned earlier that people didn’t treat you so nicely, the American Jews. How about at the synagogue?
MILLER: No, that was a year later. I mean, when we came to America, we were not treated very well. Americans were too patriotic. We were “enemy aliens.” OK. But all the Jews who came from country were treated that way. Later on, it changed. You just talked with Jews; you didn’t care anybody else. This was what you did in Germany. You didn’t dare to open your mouth. We thought we had to do that here too, but we found out that we don’t have to do it.

Harper: When did you find out the full extent of the destruction in Europe of the Jews?
MILLER: I forget.

Harper: Do you remember what your reaction was?
MILLER: Disgusted about everything. But there were always some people in between. It doesn’t happen to me. They are devils. It happened to all. They thought they were privileged. No.

Harper: Have you been back to Germany?
MILLER: We visited my brother in South Africa in Cape Town, and then we went to Israel, and we had to fly over. Planes don’t stop in Germany anymore. They stop in Dusseldorf. My mother died in ’22. I wanted to visit her grave, but I was too tired, couldn’t go. I was on the way to take a bath; I just couldn’t do it anymore. We stayed three weeks away altogether. It was a very nice trip. I saw my brother. ’38 was the last time I saw him. He died about two years ago in Cape Town.

Harper: So you did go to Germany, or you did not?
MILLER: No, Dusseldorf. The plane in summertime stops in Cologne but not in Dusseldorf.

Harper: So the plane just stopped over in Dusseldorf?
MILLER: Yes.

Harper: How long were you there?
MILLER: Two or three days.

Harper: Did you have any interest in . . .?
MILLER: We didn’t want to go down.

Harper: You didn’t care?
MILLER: No, we wanted to go back to America. But there are certain things in Germany you have to do, even though the war was over. I never went back to Germany. I see no reason to go there. There’s nobody left for me, except the place where my mother died, the funeral place. I’ve never been back to Germany. I don’t want to. And then the children, of course, have to speak English. We learned King’s English. It’s little bit different than American. [Inaudible] I read the paper. I listened to the radio. This was the best to learn, to get the sound. It took a year and a half before we could say one word. It takes five years [inaudible]. Martin became ’46 and I became ’47, and then I applied right away for the children too. They could have waited to 18, but you don’t know what happens in between. So we’re all American. We’re protected.

Harper: What year did your husband pass away?
MILLER: Eleven years ago.

Harper: Do you have any questions?
Iliinsky: Yes, I do have one question. I was wondering if you could tell me more about why the American embassy wouldn’t allow you to take your children with you when you first applied.
MILLER: That’s a good question. America must have done something. They didn’t want any children.

Iliinsky: Did they say why?
MILLER: They were against children. They had enough Jews in Germany. I couldn’t believe it when they said to us, “You and your husband can go, but not your children.” You don’t leave such small children alone. Martin wasn’t there anymore. I was saying either get out with both children or we die in concentration camp. There was no other solution anymore. My son turned three in Spain. A three-year-old doesn’t know and will do what the other people tell them, and I knew that. I was saying either we all three get out, or we all three die in concentration camp. There was no other solution. Claude Pepper, he was a Congressman. My husband got in contact with him through somebody else, and he sent a letter to America — he was living in Florida — to Oregon. He got an answer, and I came out pretty fast because the war started already. I arrived in ’41, and the war started in ’42, the American war in Pearl Harbor.

Iliinsky: Do you have a message for the people who are going to see this tape maybe many years from now or now?
MILLER: It was not a lie. It’s the truth. Why should I lie? We raised our children, as long as you tell us the truth, there will be no spanking. And they never did. [Inaudible] I talked it over with my husband. It was very good to raise them that way. You both have to cooperate. It took six months till my son finally said “Daddy.” Uncle. Everything else but Daddy. And I was his protection. Where I was — when I went into the bathroom, he was sitting in front. I couldn’t get away. Then when he started school, I told him [inaudible] is not very good; he shouldn’t be that close to his mother. I was his security blanket [inaudible] he had to go to [inaudible] away from home. He never knew that I was the one. I’m not that close anymore. I wanted him to be close to his father. It’s healthier. I’m not estranged with him, but it’s a different relationship now, healthier.

Iliinsky: So this experience of having been through this experience that you went through, what have you brought with you in terms of how you live now? What has it made you decide about how you want to live?
MILLER: I’m absolutely American today, probably more than those born American. I’m absolutely. My husband and I, we were absolute. They told him at the time to join B’nai Brith lodge. He went there a few times. Nobody talked to him. He said, “Why should I go there, to the lodge? There’s nobody.” The Americans were kind of touchy against German Jews. We didn’t treat in Germany the Polish and Russian Jews. We gave some money, but then leave me alone. They did the same as we did to them. I didn’t blame them. The money, and then the Jews say, “Leave me alone.” Jews don’t forget too fast. 

I had no trouble living in Portland on the Southwest side. We were sharing the house with the family of Blor [?]. They had a kosher store. To my husband they said, “If you bring something not kosher, I warn you the first time, and the second time you’re kicked out.” My husband can’t have a piece of sausage, can’t have this. I finally broke down and bought him something, and the lady smelled it, so she told me [inaudible]. I broke down again. My husband wanted something to eat. Something different. Jam [?]. I brought it in, and we were kicked out. 

At that time we couldn’t take an apartment with children. Today the law has changed. Here in the apartment, children are living. We moved to a house that belonged to Golds [?]. It was a furniture store, on Fourth Avenue. With $60, a down payment, because I was working at the Multnomah Hotel laundry. $60 for a down payment. We lived there three or four years, and then we moved someplace else. We did the best we could for the children, not too much for us. In ’47 we bought the grocery store, so they couldn’t kick out my husband anyplace. As long as you have to look for your own protection, nobody can give you that but yourself. So we made our way.

Iliinsky: We want to thank you very much for being able to talk with you. It’s important, what you’re doing, for all of us who weren’t there.
MILLER: Yes, thank you very much.