FRITZ GLUCKSTEIN: I remember distinctly, I walked to school. It was a mile and a half.
And first store broken windows. Well that may be an accident, who knows. And a little
bit farther, there was another one. Well, that's strange. And with the third store,
I realized something had happened. And then walking to school I saw the Jewish, the windows
of the Jewish stores broken and I saw already at a distance the smoke. I didn't know...
First I didn’t know what it meant, but then I realized they are burning the synagogues.
And then, of course, some of the teachers didn't appear because they at random took
Jewish men and sent them to concentration camps, in this case Sachsenhausen. And at
school we went along with about half of the faculty. And I remember distinct, distinctly,
we got a little note was sent home saying, "Because of the special circumstances report
cards will be late this time."
The school actually was an oasis. Once we entered the school, the school doors closed
behind us, it was a different world. Forgot all the bad time, the harassment. But one
thing I never realized, that the teachers were heroes. They came to school every day.
Eventually in light of imminent deportation, they still taught us. I didn't realize that
by being true to the profession, they were everyday heroes. Now I realize what they have
done and I'm eternally grateful.
I remember one, the Latin teacher. I remember him distinctly. His name was Koenigsberger.
We called him Klops. because there’s a dish, Koenigsberger dumplings, and while he was
quite rotund, at least at the beginning, we called him Klops. He taught Latin. He taught
it well. I am embarrassed how much I have forgotten. He always came in rocking on his
heels and called out a sentence to be translated. And then he looked around and called on someone.
And I often looked at the front row and there were sitting two timid girls, Gisela (ph.)
and Gisa (ph.). It always happened. Yes, the question, and then, "Gi...," drawing it out.
And the two girls in anticipation. And fin..., then the second syllable "...sa." Then one
girl, "Ahhh." They didn’t have to be concerned. They were excellent students. They both perished.
And Klops, the teacher, perished too. Yes, I remember. A wonderful teacher.
My parents really tried to leave. But where to go? We had some very distant relatives
in the United States and some friends, but you needed an affidavit. And even if you had
an affidavit, there was a quota number. It was not so easy. You just couldn’t leave.
And even then too, at that time if you had an affidavit and were ready to go, how did
you pay for the passage?
We call ourselves homo sapiens, the wise men, but I sometimes wonder whether we should call
ourselves homo stultissimus, the most foolish one. I think we haven't learned and things
can happen, can happen everywhere. You have to be on guard.