Visual Sequencing Book

PODRÓZE I WYSIŁKÓW

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Journeys and Struggles

JOURNEYS & STRUGGLES

Of Regina Borgenicht

SARA RENAE WILLIAMSEN

JOURNEYS & STRUGGLES

Of Regina Borgenicht

Copyright © 2010 by Sara R. Williamsen

All rights reserved.

Published in the United StatesBy Milford Press, Denver

Design by Sara R. Williamsen

First Edition

Pg #’s

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Foreward iRecollections 1Krasnystaw: Pre-war 7The Ghetto of Krasnystaw 20The Ghetto: Barricaded 30Fleeing Poland 34Living in Germany 45Living in Germany: Post-war 50Cleveland-Bound 58Living in Denver: JCRS 67Cleveland-Bound: Leaving JCRS 73Bibliography 77

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On September the first, 1939, the largest armed conflict in history began, and it ended on the eighth of May 1945. This conflict is the known as World War II. A severe num-ber of civilians were killed in this time. Many were a result of the genocidal killings of Nazi Germany. In total, World War II produced about 50 million deaths.

The war began with the German invasion of Poland. Sep-tember 14, 1939 the Germans arrived in the small city of Krasnystaw. Jews’ belongings were looted, ghettos were set up, and Jews were forced to work as slave labourers or sent off to death camps. If anyone was lucky enough to escape, they lived in fear for their lives, threatened by Nazis, and very discriminated. Living as a Jew in Europe during World War II was rough and dangerous. Many Jews during this time and after World War II ended immigrated to United States. Among these immigrants were Regina and Henry Borgenicht.

FOREWARD

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Disease has always been a problem, but in the early twenti-eth century there were many airborne diseases on the rise. One of these is known as tuberculosis or TB. Poor, crowded living and work conditions and poor diet increased the risk of contracting the disease. The disease is spread through the air and usually attacks the lungs. Symptoms include chronic cough, blood-tinged sputum, fever, night sweats, and weight loss. Treating tuberculosis was difficult at the time, but facilities were organized.

Among other treatment centers, the Jewish Consumptives’ Relief Society or JCRS, was founded in Denver, Colorado in 1904. Dr. Charles Spivak headed the sanatorium for 23 years, and it was mainly geared towards the Jewish environ-ment. One important aspect that helped lead TB patients to recovery is lots of fresh air and sunshine. The JCRS of Denver was a prime place to be treated because of the fresh mountain air and sunny sky. The tuberculosis treatment center treated “Lungers” for 50 years.

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Recollections

As I rock back and forth this old rocking chair cuts the silence of the few patients sitting with me on the porch. A soft wind blows as I take a long gasp in of the fresh, crisp mountain air. Boredom is setting in as I sit here and adore the shades of yellows and reds in the slightly swaying trees. I glance down to my left hand and admire the beautiful sparkle of my modest wedding ring. September 5th 1952, it’s my husband’s 30th birthday, and I’m unable to spend it with him. What’s one more day, really? I’ve been here 5 long months without my beloved Henry. Yes, it’s been five months since I arrived here in Lakewood, Colorado at the Jewish Consumptives Relief Society where I’ve been treated for Tuberculosis. It breaks my heart to be away from Henry for so long, but I know my health as improved greatly. I’m ready to go home any day now. Here’s your tea, Mrs. Borgenicht.

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Thank you very much, Mary, and please, call me Regina. I took the tea from the kind nurse, and blew softly to cool it a little. Mary had quickly become my favorite nurse here. She is always so kind and gentle, and I see she really cares for the patients. Just out of high school, she is very young to be working here. As she passed out tea to the other patients on the porch, I pondered as to what made her want to come here and work with such sick people, putting herself in danger of catching the disease. Mary, you work so hard here, why don’t you have a seat with me and rest a little bit.I would love to Regina, but I must finish passing out tea and snacks. Once I have finished perhaps I will come back and sit with you a while. Mary offered with a smile. I would love if you did, I returned.


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I’d love to go for a stroll around the garden, but I’m just too tired. At only 28 years old, I feel so aged because of all I’ve been through, and the sickness has made me even weaker over time. I rocked back and forth as I watched the tree branches sway in the wind. Mary returned to her job, and again I was left to the creak..creak..creak..

CreakCreakCreak

.. . . . .

.. . . . . . . . .

..

.

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Regina? Regina....I must have drifted off to sleep here in the rocker on the porch. I awoke to Mary beside me. I’ve come to sit with you during my break, Miss Regina. I’m happy you did, Mary, I replied. I wondered about Mary, her background, her family, and what sort of plans she had for the future. She is so youthful and has so much ahead of her. Tell me about yourself, Mary. Did you recently graduate?Yes ma’am I graduated this last May, she responded.And what are your plans now? Are you going to continue working here? Mary thought for a little bit, and then said, Well I haven’t thought too much about it, but I enjoy being a nurse. You’re such a good nurse, too! I am so lucky to have you as my nurse, you do so well. Thank you, Regina. I’m glad you think so. Sometimes I feel so unappreciated here because some patients can be very rude. We chatted for a while about schooling, and it was interesting to hear how different her school was from mine. After a little while, Mary started digging deeper and wanted to know more about my life and where I’ve come from.


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Well, 28 years ago, I was born in a fairly small town in Poland called Krasnystaw. My father was a tailor and owned his own little shop. My mother was an elementary school teacher, and my younger siblings and I all attended that school. When I was 13, I was moved on to a Jewish Secondary School. Like any other childhood, we ran, we played games in the yard, and we had many neighborhood friends. In the afternoons after school I enjoyed spending time in my father’s shop. I helped with odds and ins around the tailoring shop: cleaning, counting the money drawer, organizing things. I loved being there with my dad and learning about the business. I always begged him to teach me how to sew, but father never had the time to teach me. By the time he was done with his work for the day, he just wanted to relax at home and spend time with us, and of course sit and listen to the radio. He promised that someday he would teach me, but sadly that day never came.

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What do you mean? Mary asked, Why didn’t you get the chance to learn from your dad? I was shocked to hear this question. I guess she didn’t know where I came from or what I’ve gone through at all. Mary, are you very familiar with what went on in Europe during World War 2? Happenings of the Holocaust and such?Well, I learned a little about it during school, and we have heard some stuff on the news, but I guess there is a lot I don’t know, Mary said.I thought for a moment.

Where in theWorld do I begin?


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Well, as I mentioned earlier, my childhood was very normal until I was 15 years old. I played with friends and my younger siblings. I read in my free time, and as a family we listened to radio shows together.

Like most families, we had a Philips radio, and we listened to radio shows together as a family and were able to keep up on the news, which was a good thing because by the time I was 15, there was a lot going on in Europe. In the mid 30s, the government encouraged boycott on local Jewish businesses. Because we are Jewish, this made father very nervous, but luckily our community was two-thirds Jewish, so my father’s tailoring business hardly suffered.

One normal evening, we were gathered around the radio in the family room, mother and father in their chairs, and Natia, Lidia, Dorek and myself sat together on the floor. Natia and Lidia were 10 year old at this time, and Dorek

Krasnystaw:Pre-War


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was only 5 years old. We anxiously awaited the start of one of the great radio programs: “The Adventures of Bartek Bieda.” The radio show started up and we sat eager to hear what adventures he got into today. A boisterous voice came over the speakers, and Natia and Lidia squealed with excitement. It wasn’t long before the show was interrupted with the grave voice of the newsman. Us children protested that our show was being interrupted, but Father scolded us to be quiet, so he could listen to the breaking news.

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Attention listeners! I’m delivering disturbing, breaking news. On this date, September 1st 1939, Germany has invaded Poland and has bombed many towns. General mobilization has been ordered in Britain and France.

The stern, yet calm voice continued on with details about what was happening, but all I heard was the booming voice through the speaker. I did not digest the words.

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Three weeks after that solemn radio announcement, the Soviets had also arrived in Poland. During this time we were forced to go to a Soviet school, but overall the Soviet rule didn’t affect us too much. There were so many students in the Soviet school. It was much larger than the all Jewish Secondary School I attended. I was shocked the first day of classes because I didn’t know that there were this many kids in my small town, but the school courtyard was bustling with so many students running around and socializing. I took the Natia and Lidia to their classroom where they seemed to adjust right away. The classrooms seemed so bare and white, but the kids didn’t seem to mind. They were just happy to be together and play. I, on the other hand, was scared and intimidated.

I walked down the cold, bare hallways back out to the school courtyard. I got on my tipped toes to try and find anyone I recognized. Then I found a bench I could stand on since I’m a little on the short side for my age. My eyes were peeled to find anyone I recognized. Everyone was


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forced to go to this school, so my Jewish friends must be here, but with so many people it was impossible to find them. How was I going to get through school without my friends? Defeated, I plopped down on the bench. Looking for somebody? a sweet, quiet voice said.I can’t find anybody I know from my old school, I responded. I don’t know anybody here either, the girl sadly said. She looked at me with hopeful eyes that we might be friends, and I gave her my warmest, friendliest smile back.Greta was originally from Ukraine and she came over to Poland when the Soviets did. I think her father worked for the Soviets in some way, but I’m not sure what. She didn’t talk about it much. The school bell rang. It was 8:30, and it was time to get to our classrooms. Greta and I were happy to find out that we were in the same homeroom, and it didn’t take long before Greta and I were doing everything together. After school I walked with my younger siblings home, and then spent time at my father’s tailoring shop. Usually I


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cleaned around the shop for him, sweeping, washing the windows, whatever needed to be done. Sometimes if he was busy I worked on the cash register, and it helped my math skills. One night after the last customer left, I thought I would try again to get my father to teach me how to sew. I’m tired, Regina. Let’s go home to Mother’s supper, he stated.

Life was pretty normal for the next year and a half. We continued to attend the Soviet school, and Greta and I continued to become closer friends. She had a smaller family than me, only one younger brother, so she enjoyed being with my larger family. I never understood because to me, the large family gets overwhelming and crowded.

It was June of 1941, and it was a typical evening; we had just finished a delicious supper made by my mother, and I helped her clear the table and wash the dishes, while the rest of the family gathered in the family room. The twins sat together on the floor reading one of their favorite books. Dorek played with a small toy, and father read the


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newspaper and turned on the radio. Once Mother and I finished, we joined him. Usually we just heard news of what was going on with the Nazis and the Soviets, but very rarely, every once in a while, they would recite a story for the listeners. Tonight there was no story. Instead the radio announcer, in a slightly panicked voice, exclaimed that the Germans had invaded the Soviet-controlled Poland. Almost as soon as the news story started about this, Father decided it was time for us to go to bed. I helped mother get the twins and Dorek ready for bed, and I too had to go to bed. Father just sat there very still listening to the radio. He turned it down, so we could no longer here it. Mother returned downstairs to Father where they sat solemnly listening to the news story. I waited until Natia and Lidia were asleep, and I quietly slipped out to the hallway. I crept to the top of the stairwell where I could slightly hear my parents discussing the recent events.

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Don’t you understand, Ania? The Nazis are doing terrible things to Jewish people. We can’t stay here and wait until they arrive in Krasnystaw. We need to flee to Ukraine as soon as possible.


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My father was always a very put together man, but I could tell that this was big, and he was actually a little worried. I tip toed back to bed, but did not get very much sleep that night.

The next day, I asked Greta what Ukraine was like because we would probably be moving there soon. She told me where she came from wasn’t too much different than Krasnystaw. I never wanted to leave, and up until I met you I begged my parents to go back, Greta informed me. If you leave then I want to too. I will have no other friends here. We talked briefly about what was going on with the Nazis and Soviets, but Greta seemed too saddened and didn’t want to talk about it. At the end of the school day Greta and I hugged goodbye. I didn’t know when my father wanted to leave, but I knew it would be one of the last times I would see Greta.


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Like any other day, I went to my father’s shop. It was so quiet today, and there were no customers when I was there. Father was doing something in the back room, as I swept the shop. We left for home a little earlier than usual, and father took all his money from the cash register with him. At supper, my father explained to us that we would be moving within the next couple of weeks. The children went about their days as usual and had no clue about what was going on. I wished I could be that clueless about the situation. Father didn’t tell us when we were planning to leave, and we were to go to school like normal. Each day after classes I would give Greta a hug goodbye.

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Did you ever see Greta again? Mary asked. Yes, actually I saw her many more school days. Little did we know that some tragic events would prevent our family from leaving, so we continued to go to school for almost another year. Talking to Mary had brought back so many more memories than I cared to remember. Although the harsh memories stung like a bee, it was somewhat good to get it out and talk to someone with.Well, I’d love to hear more about it, Regina, but unfortunately I’ve got to go get lunches ready for the patients. I will be glad to join you later.


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A piece of bread and one change of clothes. This is what we are allowed to pack in our suitcases. They’re yelling at us to go faster as I am searching frantically for my favorite blue sweater. Before I’m able to find it, a large SS man storms in and grabs me by the arm drags me down the stairs and outside. My family lined up outside the house on the street. I was still a little groggy from being woken up, but the crisp night air and shouting woke me right up. I had no idea what time of the night it was, but I know it was very dark outside. On each side of the house I noticed that this same exact scene played outside of every house in our predominantly Jewish neighborhood. Bewildered, I shivered, If only I had my blue sweater, I thought. I held my 2 sister’s hands, and I could feel them trembling a little.

Lidia and Natia just celebrated their 12th birthday. What a way to bring in the start of their new year. I put on my brave face to help assure them it’d be all right. My father held my youngest brother, Dorek, who is now 7 years old, and my mother carried our largest suitcase.

The Ghetto of Krasnystaw

3 | The Ghetto of Kranystaw

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It wasn’t long before the soldiers at the other houses were ready, and it seemed like the entire neighborhood was herded down the street. I let go of Natia’s hand, picked up our suitcase, and followed on.

We walked through the entire city. The city had always seemed relatively small, but this walk took hours. Krasnystaw looked like a completely different town than where I grew up. The streets had been patrolled before, but now the troops patrolling the streets had tripled. I used to run around and play with friends on these streets. I walked home from school and Father’s shop alone, and always felt completely safe. Now, I wouldn’t dare to walk around Krasnystaw. The soldiers lined up at each building were scary and intimidating. They each dressed in uniform, and their big arms labeled with a swastika patch held large guns. My knees and feet ached with pain as we were forced to keep walking. My arms were getting tired of carrying our suitcase, but I knew neither Natia nor Lidia could carry it. I just wanted to sit and rest for just a moment, but I knew I must keep up with the demanding soldiers with large guns.


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The sun was barely peaking over the horizon when we arrived at the other side of town in a small neighborhood. I recognized it as the poorer community, but there was something different about it. Hundreds of people were crowded in this area. They assigned our family to a tiny 2-room apartment, and when we got there, another family was already there. A mother, father, a girl who looked a little older than me, a scrawny teenage boy, and another younger girl stood in front of us with blank stares. No one said anything, but it was understood that everyone was frightened. After a long silence, we learned that the couple was Carl and Della and their children were Elsa, Pawl, and Gizela.

We hardly spoke. Lidia, Natia and Dorek asked a lot of questions. Mother snapped at them to be quieter, and they thought she was angry with them. The truth though, was that she had no answers, nobody really did. The family we shared the apartment was very quiet, and they were polite. We split the duties evenly and helped each other out with daily chores. We had no toys, and little to do. We made due


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with what we had. The children played a Hot or Cold game, which could get annoying, but we let them play because it was all they had. It was better for us to be annoyed than to have them have nothing to do and maybe actually learn what was really going on. I tied a handkerchief around Lidia’s head to cover her eyes. The other children hid a cooking pot somewhere in the small room. I let her go, and off she went waving a wooden spoon around searching for the pot while the Natia, Dorek, and Gizela shouted at Lidia to whether she was hot, close or cold, farther from the pot.

We discussed our shortcomings and learned the two families were fairly similar. Carl owned a general store, and during the anti-Semitism wave, his business suffered. The Jews in the neighborhood still took their business to his store, but many people went to another general store that was owned by a Catholic man. The oldest daughter was Elsa, and she was 19 years old. She was one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen. Never having an older sister, I looked up to her quite a bit. She could have left the home


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already, but since her father’s business hasn’t been doing well the last few years, she got a job at the local laundry to help bring more money home for the family. Her brother Pawl was 18, but looked a little younger. He was tall and gangly, and he was very quiet. He talked mostly with his father and sometimes to my father about business and the news of what was going on. Sometimes I would try to talk to him about school stuff, but he only had short answers and seemed to avoid conversations with me. I thought that maybe he was just uncomfortable being surrounded by majority females. I did understand, yes, it would be a little awkward if I did not have Elsa, Natia or Lidia.

During our time in the ghetto, our families grew very close, which was good. The first few months of living in the ghetto, we were allowed out to go to school and work. Carl and Father left during the day to go work, but we all had to be back by 7 p.m. because of curfew. Carl and Father hardly got any business though because all the Jews were in the ghetto, and no one else would give them their business.


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The Jews in the ghetto weren’t concerned with getting their clothing tailored anymore.

They had bigger things to worry about.

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Jews also didn’t have the money anymore to get their clothing tailored. For all these reasons, Father’s business suffered a great deal. We were still able to pull together enough money for food for our survival, and we always tucked a tiny portion away, even if we really needed it at the time, which later on it helped us a great deal. The money Father had collected from the cash register in his tailor shop was also hidden away. We had bread for every meal, but rationed it the best we could, and for one meal we might have soup, which got to be heated water with a few vegetables in it. There was no radio in the ghetto, and the only news we got was by word of mouth on the street, and we never knew what we could really believe. We still attended the large soviet school. I got to see Greta everyday at school. She would tell me if she heard any news of what was happening. She told me horrific stories of other camps and ghettos in Poland. Her stories of what was happening other places made me feel like I was very lucky. I went home and shared with my family, and we gave



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thanks to how lucky we were. Every once in a while, she would bring me some good food like a piece of chicken or sometimes a dessert that she snuck from her dinner table in a handkerchief. During our breaks between classes we would lie outside in the grass and talk about all our dreams. We were nearing 18 and were to graduate soon, but I knew I would not be so lucky to move on and get a husband and career like most women my age, not yet at least. I knew things were getting worse, and we could only imagine what was coming. After each day of school we hugged goodbye.

Mary was getting me ready for bed and giving me my nightly medicine. I can’t imagine so many people living in such a small apartment. You must have been very close by the time you moved out. She handed me 2 pills and poured a glass of water.

Well yes, we were very close. Instead of 2 separate families we were one large family. We had to work together in the household, and we became very close because it’s all we had. I let out a small cough and a big long yawn. I’m very grateful for how good we had it, but yet again, things were about to change for the worse. Well you get your rest, Regina, and we will have to resume our conversation in the morning. She adjusted my pillow, are you comfortable like this?Yes, thank you Mary. Thank you for taking such good care of me and for listening to my story. I closed my eyes, and peacefully drifted off to sleep.

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I took the pills and flushed them down with one large drink of water.

Gulp Gulp


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I was nearing my 18th birthday and my high school graduation around April of 1942 when they surrounded the ghetto with walls and even more guards were on duty. Just as I had expected, times were getting worse. One day I could go to school, the next I wasn’t allowed to leave the ghetto. No one could get out anymore, but they did set up work brigades. People ages 15 and older were forced to work at various places. Some women worked at the Dairy Factory in town. It wasn’t pleasant, but I had a feeling we had it easier than many others. Pawl put in some hard labor building some sort of building for the Nazis. Father and Carl didn’t really talk about the work they did, they were very quiet when they returned home to the ghetto at night. By the time we returned from the work brigades, nobody was really in the mood to talk. Natia, Lidia, Dorek and Gizela were not old enough to go to the work camps,

The Ghetto:Barricaded

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so they stayed in the tiny apartment. Natia and Lidia were now 13 years old, and they helped prepare meals while we were all working. Sometimes if I had enough energy after the long day, I would give lessons to Dorek and Gizela because they didn’t get very far in their schooling. They would practice their grammar and arithmetic while I was gone working, and I would go over it when I returned.

We lived this way and worked in the factories for about five months. I spent my 18th birthday working in the smelly, crowded dairy factory with many women.

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Turning 18 should have been an exciting turning point for me, but instead I had a pessimistic, and grave outlook on the future.

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5 long months of strict life in the ghetto and hard work at the factory, until one day Carl mentioned that us older kids, Elsa, Pawl, and myself, should leave the ghetto and Krasnystaw and try to go out and find other jobs. Anyone caught outside the ghetto who was not in their work place was shot on the spot. I was terrified at this thought, but the idea of staying and waiting to see what the future held was almost even scarier. I couldn’t imagine leaving my parents and siblings there in the ghetto, but Carl and Father assured us it would be best if just us 3 went alone because we were more likely to escape without problems and survive.

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It was September 1942 when we put our plan into action. Teary-eyed I hugged my mother and father. I was not to tell Natia, Lidia or Dorek because they were more likely to slip up and tell somebody by accident. This plan put us all in danger. I gave the twins a big hug and tried not to cry as I said goodbye to them. As I gave Dorek a hug goodbye he broke away to go get something from his study books. Seconds later he returned with a small piece of paper. Look Regina, I’ve been practicing my writing! He handed me the paper, and my eyes welled with tears as I read his childish, messy handwriting. The paper read I love you, Regina, Dorek.I squeezed him tight, wiped a tear from my eye, folded up the paper, and put it in my pocket.

Fleeing Poland

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I LoVe you,

RegiNa

-Dorek


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I can’t even image leaving my family like that. Yes, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Leaving my husband was just as hard for me. I finished my last sip of coffee and set the cup down on the saucer. Mary wasn’t scheduled to come to JCRS to work today, but she came in to spend the day with me. It’s cold and rainy today, so we sat together in the library talking and reading.Do you have siblings, Mary? I asked. I thought maybe I would get a break from talking and telling my story and hear more about Mary. I have one older brother and one younger sister. My older brother, Thomas, is married and has brought me one niece, Susan. Even though he doesn’t live in our house anymore, we get together very often and are very close. Growing up of course we weren’t that close and argue a lot, so I didn’t think he liked me that much. My younger sister is Carol and she is just a sophomore in high school. We get on each other’s nerves and fight a lot. She’s always stealing my clothes and stuff. I thought about this, and let out a little giggle about how frustrating my little sisters cold be. They were always annoying me and taking my stuff without asking. What is so funny, Regina? Mary asked, confused.


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Oh nothing, younger siblings can sure be pesky, can’t they? During the good times when we were at home, Lidia and Natia were exactly like Carol, but when the war started, I had to grow up and deal with them. Mary let out a sigh of agreement and nodded her head.If I were to give you one piece of advice, cherish every moment you have with your family, even when you’re annoyed with them. You’ll look back and laugh at the memories you’ve had. Yes,, I understand. Thank you, Regina. So did you ever see your family again, Regina? Mary asked with a hopeful look. Well I’ll get to that, Mary.

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Elsa and I went to the dairy factory as normal. We boarded the trucks with many other women. I held my mother’s hand the whole way there. Knowing this might be the last time I see her, I had to hold back my tears. Elsa and I each patiently waited for our chance to go to the bathroom. We had very little break time, but one by one, we did get a chance to go. There were so many women working there, that we hoped they could not keep track of every single woman who went to the factory and returned back to the ghetto. The plan was that when we got to the bathroom, we would sneak out a small window that was high above the toilet. I went first. I climbed over the toilet, pushed open the window and cautiously looked outside. There was nothing and nobody in site. I used all my upper arm strength to pull myself up through the window. I was lucky that I was a fairly small young woman. I got through the window and dropped down at least 7 feet to the ground. Once I was safely outside, I had to wait in the bushes until Elsa was able to get out. Boredom set in, and it was hard to stay awake.


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It was few hours before she got a chance to go to the bathroom, and I had a sneaking suspicion that she had a little more difficulty getting through the tiny window than I did.

We walked miles and miles for hours and hours until we reached my friend Greta’s house. The school we both walked to was pretty central between us, but instead of walking the short way through the city, we had to go around the city through the woods. Constantly on the lookout for any soldiers or guards, we crept from bush to bush. Most of the journey we made was at night when we figured it would be safer. We arrived at Greta’s house near dawn. I snuck around to each window to see if I could find Greta. It was the third window that I went to when I saw Greta in a bedroom. I tapped lightly on the window, so no one but her heard me.

We had not spoken for 5 months since we were kept in the ghetto and could not go to school. She of course was not expecting me, but was very sympathetic, and her family was


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so gracious to help us. Elsa and I hid in one of their small wardrobes for a couple days until Pawl joined us. Pawl had more difficulty leaving his work, and we planned to leave on separate days because it would be easier to travel separately. When Pawl arrived he looked skinnier than he did before, and he also looked slightly sick. We waited a day in the closet, so Pawl could get some good food in him before we took off on the rest of our journey.

Greta’s family was very nice and so generous. They told us to head for Leipzig, Germany because it was considered pretty safe at the time during this war. We would have to create new identities and be very careful of who saw us and what we said. One Sunday it was time for us to go, so we all got in the car. Elsa, Pawl and I piled in and lay on top of each other on the floor. They put blankets on us and put their legs over top of us. Greta’s parents were in the front seat of the car, and Greta, her cousin and aunt sat in the back. Her father turned the ignition, and I let out a deep, nervous sigh. We set off, and at the edge of the city we

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were stopped by some Nazi’s. They asked where the family was heading, and Greta’s father calmly explained they were going on a Sunday family drive to see the fall leaves. I tried to hold back my trembling, and thought this is it, we’re caught. The journey had some pretty close moments, but this was the scariest for me. I envisioned the soldiers pulling back the blanket and shooting us on the spot. We weren’t just putting ourselves in danger, but also Greta’s whole family for helping Jews leave the country. Since Greta’s father was a well-known citizen, they let the car pass. As we continued on, I let out a huge sigh of relief. The next couple hours was not fun. It was so stuffy under the blanket, and we were squooshed in there tight, but we knew it was what we had to do. Although it was a rough journey, we got to safety.

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5 | Fleeing Poland

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We arrived at Greta’s great uncle’s farm. It was quiet, safe, and we stayed in the barn for a few weeks. Crammed in the cellar, I knew we were pretty safe, and they brought us plenty of food. Him and his family showed us just as much generosity as Greta’s family did. They helped us plan our journey. The family had a small radio in the house, so they heard the news, read the paper, and kept us informed of what was going on in the rest of Europe. It was so scary to hear about the rest of Poland, and it kept me wondering about how things in Krasnystaw were, and if our families were still doing okay. Although the trek to Germany had been and will continue to be rough and scary, I kept hopeful that we were going to be safer there. We set out for Leipzig, Germany. Greta’s uncle drove us for 5 hours. We had to ride in the back of the farm truck under hay and the a few pigs. Every once in a while a big, dirty hoof would step on my hand or leg, and I yelled out in pain. When we would pass though towns, I had to be sure to keep quiet. He took us as far as he could take us.


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As we thanked him and said our good byes, he handed a small nap sack full of food for the rest of our trip. From there on we were able to hitch hike and walk for the rest of the way. Four days later, we arrived.

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October 1942 We arrived with nothing but the clothes on our backs and a tiny bit a money that Father sent with us. We didn’t know what to do or where to go, so we looked for jobs in Leipzig. We lived on the streets for a few days, we’d sleep in shifts, just like when we were traveling. One person was always awake and keeping watch over us. We asked around at stores, restaurants, anywhere if they needed help. No luck. We started asking strangers if they knew of anything. One polite man finally suggested a chocolate factory north of Leipzig. Using a small portion of the money we had, we took a bus to the factory. Hopeful, we asked if they needed 3 more workers in the factory, and all 3 of us started that day. It was a good place to blend in with the busy factory workers. Just a week after working and saving up, we were able to rent out a small room in an apartment in Leipzig.

Living in Germany


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6 | Living in Germany

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After our long travel to Germany, hiding in closets, barns, and sleeping outside, it was nice to just be able to sleep inside safely. Elsa and I shared a small bed, and we gave Pawl extra blankets to sleep with on the floor. We were finally able to go to sleep and not worry about our own safety. We did, however, still go to sleep with so much worry for our families in Krasnystaw. We worked daily at the factory, but it wasn’t too long before people started to question where we came from. Some people commented on how my facial features and profile view looked differently than most Germans. It made me nervous, but I insisted that I was a Catholic German. The factory workers joked about what they would do to a Jew, and everyone laughed it off. This was not a safe place for us, I felt like our cover would be blown at any day, and if that happened, they would hurt us, or even kill us. It was dangerous for any Jew to be around these hostile Germans.


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We were able to afford our room for one more week while we searched for jobs. We walked a few miles up the road to a farm that we heard was in need of some work. They gladly accepted our offer to help around the farm. In return for our help, we got shelter, food, and very little pay. Working on the farm was safer for all of us because there were less people to see us,. The family was very nice and treated us well. We learned that they had family from Poland, and they wanted to be sure that we were well taken care of. I had been through a lot of hard work, but was not used to this kind of farm work. None of the less, we were safe together. We stayed there for one year and 3 months until the war was over.

7 | Living in Germany

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The war ended in 1944. We had it pretty good at the farm, but once the war was over, it was safe to go back to Poland and find our families. Once again, we had next to nothing and very little money. We learned a safe place for us to go was Stuttgart, Germany at a displaced persons camp. There we had shelter for free, and we would be able to work for actual wages. We thought it would be best to get back on our feet at the displaced persons camp before heading home to Poland. The camp provided work for us, and each day we went to work at an auto factory in town. Like usual, the conditions weren’t very good. Working with the heavy machinery could potentially be very dangerous. At night, back at the camp, we were fed porridge, stews, potatoes, nothing special, but it got us by, and we were grateful for it. The displaced persons camp was supposed to be a safe place for us to go after the war, but unfortunately some

Living in Germany:Post-war

7 | Living in Germany:Post-war

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camps were much better than others. At first, the basic necessities of food, clothing and medical supplies were provided by the Allied Forces and the United Nations Rehabilitation and Relief Administration. The Jews were still not treated equally, especially at the auto factory. The owner took advantage of us working there. We were housed behind barbed wire fences, guarded and exposed to humiliating treatment. Nutrition, sanitary conditions and accommodations were poor, but we at least got food, clothing and shelter.

Each day lists would be posted of survivors from different camps. We never learned what happened to our families, so we frantically checked daily. We scanned the long lists looking for a familiar name, but we never had such luck. We knew all along that conditions in Poland were dangerous, and we assumed there were not many survivors.

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One day, I saw an officer as he was posting the daily list. I was scared of what I would hear, but I walked right up to him. Sir, have you any news of Krasnystaw? My family was forced to live in a ghetto there. The man looked at me with so much sympathy in his eyes. Many people in the ghetto of Krasnystaw were sent to a concentration camp. If they weren’t sent there, about a ago, the rest of the residents were killed in a roundup at the ghetto. I looked at him stunned, and I realized there was little to no hope that they had survived a concentration camp. I’m so sorry ma’am, and he turned and walked away. Tears welled up in my eyes, and turned to go find Elsa and Pawl. I ran through crowds of people checking the lists, bumping into many as I passed. I bumped into one man, and fell to the ground. Helpless, I laid there sobbing. I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I looked up to find worry-filled brown eyes. I didn’t mean to bump you. Are you hurt?I sat up and tried to collect myself. Brushing myself off I responded, I’m sorry, it was me who ran into you. I’ve just received terrible news, and I need to go find my friends.


7 | Living in Germany: Post-war

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The man gave me an apologetic smile. It’s rare that people learn of good news here, he responded. Would you like to go talk? I can help you find your friends. In need of a comforting friend, I let the handsome stranger accompany me to go find Elsa and Pawl. He comforted me as I told them, and then he comforted all of us. It was the worst day of my life, learning my family has perished, but it was the best day of my life, because it was the day that I met Henry Borgenicht.

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It was the fall of 1945, and the relief effort was taken over by the Jewish welfare organizations. The American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, or the JDC, provided emergency aid and ran childcare centers, hospitals and trade schools. Things were definitely starting to look up for displaced persons camp, and Jewish people in general. Even though working wasn’t pleasant, it put a little more money in my pocket to save up. On top of everything else, I was spending every minute with Henry. He learned all about my past, and I learned more about him. Like myself, he had been separated from his family. Henry was originally from Germany, and was going to school to become a Doctor when the war started. He fled the country to continue schooling, and when the war was over, he had nothing and nobody to return to. He came to the displaced persons camp, and checked the list of survivors daily.

By the next year conditions were improving, and the camp was just like its own little community. People were happier and could finally start settling down again. Many people


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were marrying and starting families right there in the camps. Elsa was married to a nice man who was a teacher. Pawl also had met a young lady. They moved out of the camp, and we have not heard much from them. My days were spent with Henry, and I was madly in love with him. While he was in the displaced person’s camp he was able to take classes with the ORT in hopes to finish school and become a Doctor.

Henry spent nearly all the money he had on school, but whenever he had the chance he loved to take me out to dinner or a show, or he would bring me flowers. The littlest things made me so happy, and I knew he is who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

One special, cool Spring day, Henry came home from classes and brought me beautiful red roses. It wasn’t a full dozen, but it was all he could afford. Henry took me by the hand, and we went for a walk around the park. We sat down together on a bench to talk. His hand was a little



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shaky and clammy. Still holding my hands and smiling, he got down on one knee. Regina, I’ve been so happy knowing you this last year, and I can’t imagine my life in the future without you. Will you do me the honor in marrying me?I could feel myself smiling from ear to ear and my eyes swelled up with tears. Of course, I would love to marry you, Henry, I responded. He slid a simple ring around my cold finger and pulled me in for a kiss.

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Mary was cleaning up our dishes from dinner, and stopped in her tracks, full of excitement. Wow! That’s so romantic! Mary exclaimed. I hope that happens to me someday! I smiled at her. I could see that look her eyes: that longing for her soulmate and happily ever after.She continued on, I see my brother so happy with his wife and daughter, and I can’t wait to start my own family. Are you steady with anyone right now, Mary? I asked.No, not right now. I was, but when I started working here, I didn’t have as much time to date and keep up with school. I hope I can meet a nice young man soon though.I understood exactly how she felt, and smiled at her hopefulness for love. I helped her clean up our dishes, and we moved to the sitting room to continue or discussion until I was ready for bed, and Mary went home for the night.


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In 1946 many things were continuing to look up for many reasons. Henry and I were married in March. It was a cold day, but to this day, the best day of my life. It was a small simple wedding in a local synagogue. Elsa and her husband, and Pawl and his new bride all attended my special day. Wearing a simple white dress and pearls and carried red roses down the aisle to Henry. The ceremony was short and sweet. Henry broke the glass, and we celebrated the true beginning of our lives.

The camps began to function as self-contained societies. Along with us, many couples married and thousands and births were recorded. Most worked or took part in a variety of training programs. Henry continued his medical training, and I continued to work at the auto factory. Schools, sports and cultural clubs were formed. Things were really changing in a positive way.

Cleveland-Bound

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Many displaced persons waited several years in these camps before being finally admitted into countries such as Canada, the United States and Palestine.

Just a year after we were married, things took a turn for the worse, once again. Henry was diagnosed with tuberculosis. He had a terrible cough, and night sweats and a fever were frequent occurrences. He rapidly lost weight and wasn’t able to attend his classes anymore. The Doctors did all they could to help him, but we thought we should seek better medical attention in the United States.

Earning your American immigration visa is a long process because we needed to prove that we were in good health. So, although Henry was not in the best health condition, he had improved enough to be able to get the visa. It was four years after we were married when we received our visas. Along with good health, we had to prove that we could sustain ourselves and wouldn’t end up on welfare. We saved up enough money from working at the factory, packed our few belongings and were on our way!

8 | Cleveland-Bound


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Since we had already been a part of the ORT in Stuttgart, we searched for one in America. Before we left, the organization in Stuttgart gave us a list of cities where the ORT was located. We weren’t interested in living in the busy, crowded New York City, so we stumbled upon Cleveland and found it was a good fit for us. Henry worked part time in an appliance store as a salesman while continuing to go to medical classes and get treatment for his tuberculosis. His case was not severe, but of course still a little contagious. We lived in the displaced persons camp of Cleveland for a little while, until we could save up enough money for the down payment of our house.

9 | Living in JCRS

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As I mentioned before, it was always my goal to learn how to sew. My father of course wasn’t able to teach me, but I attended classes at the ORT and learned there. Eventually I earned my certificate in corset making. I felt accomplished and got a real job at a clothing factory in Cleveland. I worked sewing for 8 hours straight in a day. I enjoyed it most of the time, but it got tiring. I earned $60 a week. Our entire life together, Henry and I had lived in displaced persons camp, and after we saved enough money, we decided it was finally time to purchase our own home. Something that would finally be ours.

Our new home was red and small, and was snuggled in a small and quaint neighborhood. It was near a school, park, general store, and I thought it would be the perfect area to raise a family. Buying our home was another big step in Henry and my life together. Everything was going according to plan, and we were finally living a normal life, but once again, things were about to take a turn for the worse. I enjoyed working at the clothing factory. Sewing all day


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long got very tiring, but it reminded me of my father, so it made me happy. Unfortunately, working in the crowded factory and coming home to tend to Henry’s mild case of tuberculosis,

8 | Cleveland-Bound

I too caught tuberculosis.

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Regina…Regina…. Mary calmly whispered. I’m back to work today, Miss Regina, it’s time for breakfast.Regina awoke to the sweet smile of Mary, and the soft, pleasant smell of her perfume. Good morning, Regina! How are you feeling today?I feel quite fine, actually. How are you?I’m wonderful today, thank you. Now, sit on up, so I can check your breathing this morning.Mary helped pull me up to a sitting position and put the ear pieces in her ears. After a few seconds I felt the sharp coolness of the stethoscope on my back under my nightgown. Okay, take one long breath in and breathe out. She moves the stethoscope, making another part of my back shiver. Again…and again. Today’s going to be a good day, Regina, I can feel it, Mary smiled at me. I noticed she had a certain sparkle to her eye today.

Living in Denver:JCRS


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Why do you say that, Mary? I got out of bed and grabbed my housecoat to warm up.I can just feel it. It’s a beautiful fall day; would you like to eat your breakfast on the porch today?Yes, that sounds lovely. I’ll be out in a few minutes.In the bathroom I splashed water on my face to help me wake up. I looked in the mirror at my tired face. I noticed that some color was slowly returning to my face. I thought to myself I must be getting better, and smiled in the mirror. I reached for my small cosmetics bag and put on my favorite shade of red lipstick. Today is a good day.Out on the porch a few other patients sat at the table eating their breakfast. Mary had set a place for me, and I thanked her and sat down. It was a warm day and I could feel the sun’s heat on my shoulders. After my breakfast, like most days, I sat out on the porch watching the trees sway in the wind and read from a book Mary suggested: The Cardinal.


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Mary joined me a little while later. She sat down next to me and said, Okay, where did we leave off last night? I thought for a moment. Well, I thought I had told you everything?Shaking her head Mary said, No, no, no, you left off at the part where you went to the doctor and found out you had tuberculosis. Please finish the rest, Regina.Well, I suppose there isn’t that much else to tell, but I will go on. I had been sick for quite a while, as I mentioned before. Working in a room with so many other women, all sewing together, and Henry, who had caught tuberculosis years before, I expected to get it. Henry had been treated for a while, and was doing well,

but I just continued to get worse...

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My Doctor in Cleveland had sent other patients out here to the Sanitarium, and most had successful, improving conditions. He thought if I stayed in Cleveland, I would most likely get worse, and my condition could potentially be fatal to both Henry and myself.

Well, as you know, Henry is all that I have left in this world that I love, so leaving him was so very painful, but I couldn’t stand to put him in danger of becoming sicker, after his health had finally been steadily improving. My Doctor wrote the JCRS, and it was decided that the first week of April I would come here. Henry and I were able to scrap together enough money for the boarding pass for the train, and I packed a few belongings in my suitcase. There wasn’t much I needed, so I packed a nightgown, housecoat, slippers, 2 dresses, 2 sweaters, 1 pair of shoes, and one warm coat. I brought only my essentials, a small cosmetics case, and the Torah which had a picture of Henry and myself, and of course, the note my brother Dorek gave me ages ago, the last time I saw him.

9 | Living in Denver: JCRS

Henry carried my suitcase to the car as I peered into our home. Goodbye little red house, I thought. I had no idea if I would ever be able to return. The first of many tears fell down my cheek, and I joined Henry in the car.

We drove in silence most of the way to the station, and I sat there sniffling, trying to hold in my tears. We arrived, and I sat, staring forward, not wanting to go. One more tear fell down my cheek. He gave me a sympathetic and reassuring smile, took my hand in his, and kissed my now wet cheek. Regina, darling, please don’t cry, Henry said sweetly. This is the best, and I know that you will be treated so well there, and come back to me better than ever.”

I felt the tears well up in my eyes. They poured down my cheeks as I protested, It’s you I’m worried about! I can’t stand to leave you while you are also sick. Who is going to take care of you?Henry gave me his sweet smile again, Oh Regina, you worry about me too much, dear. I will be fine. I have been feeling better for quite a while now, and I promise I will go to my check up every month.

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I just don’t understand why you can’t come with, I huffed, now angry at the fact.Regina, I am not sick enough. You are sick, and you need to be treated. It won’t be long before you are all better and back here in my arms, okay? He pulled me close and gave me a kiss. I promise, Regina, it won’t be long. I love you, and want the best for you and want you to get better, and you need to go in order to get better.I looked over at him and gave him my best smile. He smiled back his amazing white smile, got out of the car, and came to open my door for me. With my suitcase in one hand, and mine in his other, he walked me to deck. Pulling me close, he gave me one last, long kiss. I’ll miss you terribly and can’t wait until you’re better and back in my arms.I smiled, I’ll miss you too. I love you, Henry.I love you too, Regina, He gave me a small nudge towards the gate, and I reached in my coat pocket for my ticket. I gave the man my ticket, and glanced back at Henry. He smiled and gave me a reassuring wink. I boarded the train and one more tear left my eye.

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That must have been so hard, Regina, Mary sympathized.It was very hard. The one person I have left who I loved, and I have to be here without him. I tell the Doctors here everyday how I need to go home and take care of him, and they usually respond with “We need to get you well first.”Yes, Mary responded enthusiastically, well they’re right. Let’s get you inside for your daily check up with the doctor.

I sat down on my bed while the doctor checked my breathing with his stethoscope. I took slow deep breaths in and out while he listened to my lungs. He took a long look at my chart, and then back to me. Regina, you’ve been steadily improving, how are you feeling?I feel fine, Dr. Spivak.And has your coughing gone down?Very much so, yes.Are you having much trouble breathing?

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No sir, I’m not.Well, Regina, the Doctor stated proudly, “How would you like to go home to Cleveland?I could feel myself smile from ear to ear. Oh Doctor, I’d love to! Can I really? Am I well enough to go home now? I couldn’t contain myself. I jumped up and gave the doctor a hug. Mary, Mary did you hear that? I heard, Regina! How wonderful! You get to go home to Henry! Mary hugged me and with a huge smile she said, I’m so happy for you.


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10 | Cleveland-Bound: Leaving JCRS

It was a few days later when Henry had wired money for a train ticket home, I packed up my belongings, and I was finally on my way. My eyes welled up with a few tears as I said my good byes. Although I was so excited to be going home, I was sad to leave some new friends I had made, especially Mary. I hugged Mary goodbye and promised to write her that I arrived safely. I will miss you, Regina. Thank you for sharing with me your stories and journeys through life. I am proud to know you and call you my friend. I smiled, and thought to myself how lucky I am to go through my life and be able to go home to an amazing, loving husband. I thanked Mary and the doctors for taking such good care of me, and I was on my way.

I was finally better. Finally heading home to my husband. After everything we’ve been through, we’re finally able to start our adventure through life together.

CREDITS

All documents Courtesy of: JCRS Collection, Beck Archives Special Collections, Penrose library and Center for Judaic Studies, University of Denver, 2010

PHOTO CREDITS

Image 1, Frank Scherschel, 1943Image 5, David E. Scherman 1945Image 6, Al Fenn, 1952

Regina Borgenicht, 12730

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