Such wonderful times and such wonderful people!

Let me introduce you to a few who have populated my world lately.

COLLEAGUES and CONFERENCES

At the annual conference of Association of Holocaust Organizations, I saw colleagues with whom I’ve worked for many years. Together with fine academic presentations, I had the great pleasure of seeing my friend and colleague, James Young, after many years. James, an expert on Memorials who was a principal consultant on the Berlin Memorial and now works on September 11th Memorial on site of the World Trade Center, wrote the beautiful Introduction to my book, The Last Album. It was wonderful to reconnect and catch up on our lives and on our respective work.

Together with other colleagues, I also saw Michael Berenbaum, who served as first Director of DC Holocaust Museum’s Research Institute. It was another nice reunion, since Michael was one of the first people to whom I showed Eyes from the Ashes photos almost 25 years ago.

STUDENTS

Together with other presentations in Denver and elsewhere, I did a small presentation for very young children in a Philadelphia religious school for Yom Hashoah. Instead of the graphic material usually presented (not by me, but often by others), the children and I spent our time talking about what life was like for Jewish children in pre-war Europe—aspects that were similar and aspects that were different from the children’s own lives. And then, on a tiny DVD screen, the children crowded around to examine pre-war photos from my collection. Though it was a modest little talk for very little children, their questions and comments made it clear that the impact of our time together was not insignificant.

SURVIVORS

Survivors hold a very special place in my heart and I have been the beneficiary of their stories, their memories, and their trust. In fact, it is to survivors—as well as those who did not survive—to whom I feel a deepest responsibility to continue to teach, research and share. But recently, I was privileged to accompany one of my dearest friends and treasured survivors, Henry Skorr from Kalisz, Poland, to a grand event honoring hundreds of survivors who live in the Philadelphia area. This day was not about research; it was just about celebrating life! Here I had the joy of seeing Henry (who recently had hip surgery) dance

and also had many wonderful reunions with survivors whom I interviewed these last twenty four years.

Here is Avraham Schnapper, who served as President of the Survivors’ Group in Philadelphia for many years. He was always considered a serious and very strong leader—now he has mellowed to such a degree that he can be described as charming and quite sweet.

And here is Itka Zygmatovicz, one of the survivors I admire most.

In our interview 15 years ago, Itka shared with me her story, as well as her wisdom. As a young girl, Itka witnessed the murder of her entire family. When she finished telling her devastating story, Itka explained to me, “I had a choice. Either I could be filled with hate or I could live with love.” And then Itka summarized her life’s philosophy: “Hate destroys and love creates.”

As we move through our lives, let us remember Itka’s wisdom and allow love, not hate, to inform, inspire and mark our lives.

Ann Weiss

Lindsay Hudgins attended Weiss’ Educators’ Seminar in Denver, sponsored by the University of Denver, the United States Holocaust Museum and the Holocaust Awareness Institute.

I had a great experience in Denver recently, teaching 100 public school teachers.

Together with the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, University of Denver and the Holocaust Awareness Institute, we conducted a day-long seminar to better teach the Holocaust. Teachers came from all over the Denver-Boulder area to learn. I was giving the concluding session of the day-long learning.

At the end of the day, I stepped onto the stage to begin my presentation. Knowing that the teachers have had a long day of teaching techniques and teaching approaches—I decided to say what was most important to me first.

“You can’t just teach history—facts and dates—you have to teach humanity.” And this is what I believe.

Unfortunately, I had not heard the opening words of a precious presenter, Peter Mehlbach, one of program’s organizers, who was trained by, and was representing U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in D.C.

Simply put, Peter expressed a very different view, “You’re not here to teach humanity. You’re here to teach history.”

You decide.

Peter’s point, of course, is that our job as teachers is to teach—teach the facts, and paraphrasing the Dragnet character, “the facts, ma’am, just the facts.”

There is a great deal of validity to his point of view, because when you teach only facts, you separate the history (or whatever subject you are teaching) from the teacher’s personal perspective on the facts—and that is important. We need to know the facts accurately, and not simply a single teacher’s interpretation of the facts. But when you do this, if you only do this, you run the risk of separating the history from what makes it relevant to the students, and in this distancing, many students will simply turn off because they know “This has nothing to do with me.”

I have a different approach. Absolutely, and without compromising or short-changing the historical facts, I want to make a connection between the history on the written page and the history ‘written’ on our hearts. I want to get this history inside their kishkes (Yiddish, for guts, their insides). I want to include relevant personal stories of people directly involved in the history. Therefore, instead of teaching simply that 800,000 were killed in Treblinka, I choose to highlight the story of one of those 800,000— Janusz Korczak, author, educator, doctor, radio show host, founder of the Warsaw Orphanage, and originator of creative educational principles, considered modern still today. In the case of Korczak, when we teach that, although given a chance for his own freedom, Korczak refused to take it—unless the little Jewish orphans in his orphanage were also given a chance to live, we are also teaching humanity, not just history. And when the children were not allowed to live, and Korczak chose to accompany them on the death train, and was killed with them in Treblinka, we are teaching something much more than history. We are teaching extraordinary courage, extraordinary ethics and an extraordinary sense of humanity.

After this kind of teaching, when we learn ‘800,000 died at Treblinka’, we now know the story of one. And then the facts become more important to us too.

Even if we could never do what Korczak did, nor should we—nor anyone—have such a terrible choice, we learn from the actions of such individuals about ethical values and exceptional modes of behaviors. On a smaller scale, we learn about the lives of these people BEFORE they were victims. And when we learn who these people were, then what happened matters much more, and it’s no longer a ‘distant’ history. [Note: For more personal stories of who these people were, please see the Education/Learn section]

So as you can see, when I teach about the Holocaust, I feel it is incomplete to teach only when this ghetto formed, or that concentration camp opened, without letting students know about individual lives—and who were these individuals?

And by ‘who were they?’ I’m not simply talking about how they died, but rather, about how they lived. And with this perspective of life and culture and society, I believe we have an important aspect of Holocaust education.

In closing, I share the perspective of two observers, a Holocaust scholar who writes about Holocaust memorials and memory, and a high school teacher who attended my session:

James E. Young, University of Massachusetts at Amherst on The Last Album says:

“What precisely do…[museum]artifacts teach us about the history of the people who once animated them?”… In a perversely ironic twist, these artifacts—collected as evidence of the crimes—were forcing us to recall the victims as the Nazis have remembered them to us…victims known only by their absence, by the moment of their destruction. In great loose piles, these remnants remind us not of the lives once animating them, so much as of the brokenness of lives…. Ann Weiss’ remarkable work provides an invaluable corrective to this tendency. Like Yaffa Eliach…, Ann Weiss … shows us what was lost. Moreover, in Last Album: Eyes from the Ashes of Auschwitz-Birkenau, we not only have a record of how the victims would have remembered their own lives, but we have a visual record of that which constituted the fullness of life itself….In this kind of memory, the humanity of the victims is restored to view, and that which the Nazis would have us forget is forcefully thrust back into the open.

Lindsay Hudgins, World Literature Teacher at West High School, Denver, CO:

After hearing what you taught us today, I want to find all my students from the last 10 years so I can tell them this story—the humanity of all these people. I will go back to my students this year, and begin correcting my wrongs!

And as you’ll see, there is a connection to the Holocaust, which is at the heart of The Last Album and Eyes from the Ashes Educational Foundation. And it does have a connection to my visit to Israel a few weeks ago. Read on.

The American Statesman (January18, 2010) published an article detailing international relief efforts in Haiti, and Israel’s disproportionate response. The article compared responses of various countries to help, and Israel’s extraordinary efforts are more than surprising—especially considering population.

Here’s a short excerpt:

The U.S. has pledged $100 million and sent supplies and personnel. The U.K. pledged $10 million and sent 64 firemen and 8 volunteers. China, a country with a population of 1,325,639,982, compared to Israel’s 7.5 million, sent 50 rescuers and seven journalists. The 25 Arab League nations sent nothing.

Despite its small size, Israel sent a large contingent of highly trained aid workers to quake-stricken Haiti. Two jumbo jets carrying more than 220 doctors, nurses, civil engineers, and other Israeli army personnel, including a rescue team and field hospital, were among the first rescue teams to arrive in Haiti.

Israel’s “disproportionate” response stems from Jewish memory and tradition. Mati Goldstein, head of the ZAKA International Rescue Unit delegation managed described the scene, “Everywhere, the acrid smell of bodies hangs in the air. It’s just like the stories we are told of the Holocaust - thousands of bodies everywhere

I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if, 70 years ago, the world responded quickly and effectively while the Jews were being brutalized, starved, beaten and murdered. How many more people might be alive today? And from these people, and from their children who never had a chance to be born, how many medical advances might have discovered? How many symphonies composed or works of art created? There is no way to know for sure.

There is nothing we can do about the past. But there is something we can do right now.

What can we do? At the moment, volunteers are ready to help, but unless someone has emergency medical training, it is better for these volunteers to wait. Soon enough there will be a time when roads need to built and buildings need to be repaired. Over these last few days I spent time working with Kathy Kelly of Global Action Foundation. We were organizing medical volunteers (and passport numbers). She was arranging flights, talking to people at the Haitian Embassy and government representatives—ours and theirs—to do what can be done, and to do it in the most timely way.

Right now, the need is for money—not people. If you want to help—and I hope you do—the urgent need is for funds. In this crucial effort, our educational foundation, Eyes from the Ashes, is joining with Global Action, to raise money to get immediate relief to the Haitians. If you want to help, donate directly to:

Global Action at www.goact.org —Every dollar designated for Haiti will go directly to help Haiti—not one penny will be spent on overhead during this crisis!

Let me be clear about this: The earthquake in Haiti is not like the Holocaust. No one set out to murder and destroy a people, as the Nazis did to the Jews. The Jews were abandoned by most of the people of the world. Haiti is a natural disaster. The Holocaust is one of man’s own making. It was people who killed people.

And let me also be clear about this: While there are lives to be saved in Haiti, let us do everything possible to do that. As during the Holocaust, the world and many good people looked away. Let us not do that any more.

Right now the priority is to save—and then to help rebuild—lives. After that, let us go back and focus on issues of education, and making this world a better place—through action and education/actions that make a difference and education that helps to open minds.

Yours in peace,
Ann Weiss

As the air gets colder and we move to a new decade, it’s time to take stock.

Talks and projects have continued. Partnerships with other organizations have proved very beneficial, and new audiences have added new dimensions to the project.

Recently I spoke to a group of young Soviet Jews, being trained for leadership in the Russian Jewish community. They came here from Russia, the Ukraine, Uzbekistan, Moldavia, Tashkent and other parts of the Soviet Union some twenty years ago, when they were children of 7-13. Though westernized, they retain a deep connection to their native culture, and still speak Russian with ease. They switch languages easily as they speak to each other in a mélange of both English and Russian. Their group, EZRA TAGLIT, a division of BIRTHRIGHT, sponsors cultural trips to Israel for young adults, also helps to foster a sense of what it means to be Jewish with a series of classes. I was a speaker for this leadership series.

This group was inspiring. Coupling their past—they were the very people that our Soviet Jewry Movement tried to help so many years ago—with the people they have become today, their insights moved me deeply. A sampling of their comments:

Sergey from Kiev said he had to step back when he saw the photos. “They really look like the photos from my own family—they look so much like photos I know, and I feel a strong connection to them. Then, at the same time, I have to keep remembering their fate. And I hold in me the tension between the life of the photos themselves and the terrible fate of these people with what followed.”

Dmitry from Tashkent pointed to the disparity between previous times in the Soviet Union when Jews suffered under extreme anti-Semitism, and what he is experienced in the U.S.: “I came here when I was seven, and I’ve grown up for 20 years in freedom. Oppression is not part of my experience. I think the Jews in the United States, with their freedom and choices, are a lot like the Jews in pre-war Germany, under the Weimar Republic. Both had a lot of freedom and choices. We, and they, are mostly assimilated. Freedom makes that an easy choice.”

I felt a need to respond to Dmitry, and said, “Even if you have freedom, for which I’m glad, and even if you have not suffered under anti-Semitism, I challenge you not to take this freedom for granted. And especially because your family, these two generations before you, did not have such freedom, I ask you not to use freedom as an excuse for doing nothing. Regardless of whatever choice seems right to you,” I asked Dmitry, and all the other young Russian Jews, “to think within yourself what being Jewish means to you, and to find that locus of identity that feels right to you.”

And Yelizaveta (called Lisa in the U.S.) who works at Lincoln Center has a dream of starting a photo gallery featuring photos of freedom and of oppression, showing through her lens both what it means to be free as well as what it means to be un-free.

Recently, I also went to University of Minnesota, and screened my film at the Center for Holocaust and Genocide Studies, which was founded by my friend and colleague Steve Feinstein z”l (By the way, Steve took my bio photo on this site, when Steve, his wife Sue and I went to Dubrovnik, after our presentations in Sarajevo). In Minnesota, I spoke at a day-long seminar for educators on creating a world without genocide together with a judge from the International War Crimes Tribunal, an historian, a Bosnian survivor and Randi Markuson, who together with her late husband Eric, has researched and helped victims in Bosnia, Rwanda and numerous troubled spots around the world.

Coming up in 2010, I am very excited about two programs, both of which take place in Denver. The first (February 2010) will be a day-long seminar for educators that focuses on photos from Auschwitz—both the photos that the Nazis took (from the infamous Auschwitz Album) and the innocent pre-war photos of Jews (from my Last Album). These images are seen in contrast to each other—photos of inhumanity as distinct from the photos of humanity. For this seminar, I will be partnering with the University of Denver and the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.

And in early March 2010, I will return to Denver to deliver the Fred Marcus Memorial Lecture, organized by Audrey Friedman Marcus, in honor of and in memory of her impressive late husband, a survivor known for his goodness and kindness, as well as his commitment to memory, and creating a better world. It is indeed a privilege to deliver a talk in his honor, and this annual event is eagerly anticipated each year in the Denver area. This year they expect double the attendance because of the interest in this topic.

Wishing you all the best, both as you meet your personal challenges and as you celebrate with those you love,

Ann Weiss

New beginnings. The year past. A time for taking stock—not only of who we are, but of who we may yet be. Not only of what we’ve accomplished, but of where we are going.

There have been big events in our family—one daughter getting married, one returning to Israel for continued studies. And there have been big events in our country.

When I think of the bounty in my life, I want to thank you for your encouragement and support. As this Jewish New Year begins, I wish for you the fulfillment of the deepest wishes of your heart—but only those, as my mom used to say, “only those that are good for you.” Let me close with both my deepest wishes for your happiness and health and also a little giggle—see the few seconds of u-tube below.

I hope that this year will bring a cessation of turmoil and stress in your life (and in our country) or at least a reduction—and hope that if we all work together, and individually—we will bring more peace to our world, more peace to our lives. And I hope this is the year that we each find the thing that we need most.

And now a little giggle—we can always use a little giggle.

MESSAGE FROM THE DIRECTOR        SPRING/SUMMER 2009

EVENT UPDATE: I will be appearing at the Aish Center in Bala Cynwyd on July 29th at 8:30 PM. Further details on the Upcoming Events page

Dear Readers—

Everything is in bloom, and with it come the excitement of new beginnings—for the earth, for the country, for each of us.

In this note, we have a new student focused initiative, inspired by Elie Wiesel (see below), new chapters published, news and a powerful poem from a listener:

Coming up for Eyes from the Ashes are appearances and exhibitions in Philly, NYC, Myrtle Beach, Columbia, South Carolina, Denver and in 2011, an exhibition in Texas. Details about each venue will be added, as time gets closer.

In 2009, my chapter on ‘Personalizing History Through Photographs’ (p. 31-45) was published in The Resistance to Genocide, a Japanese publication edited by Akio Kimura of Kanagawa University, Japan, which originated as a result of my speech in Sarajevo, on ‘Remaining Human in the face of Inhumanity.’

Furthermore, my chapter, “The Landscape of Memory” was published by Purdue University Press in honor of Zev Garber, edited by Rabbi Professor Steve Jacobs in “Maven in Blue Jeans“. This volume included essays by John Roth, Peter Haas Richard Rubenstein, Father John Pawlilowski, Michael Berenbaum, Rick Libowitz.

Together with beautiful letters, I was blessed with the re-discovery of a moving poem, written some years ago by Israeli professor and poet, Hanoch Guy, when he first saw the photos and heard the story of the Last Album—even before there was a Last Album (i.e., before the book was published).

I share it now with you, with both deep thanks to Hanoch for his gift of this poem, and great appreciation for the power of his words:

Eyes from the ashes analyzed radioactively
In fossil beds by paleontologists.
Eyes and ashes piling up,
Filling up,
Citadels of ancient cities.
Eyes from the ashes
Collecting dust on shelves
In rusting locked shed in Poland.
Eyes from the ashes
Filed meticulously in past war archives.
Classified by diameter and focus.
Eyes from the ashes forgotten,
For fifty two years
On snowy peaks of the Carpathian Mountains.
Melting and flowing into Europe’s streams and rivers.
Eyes and ashes hovering in
Swarming clouds over Europe.
Ashes separating, spreading over Poland fields.
Eyeless ashes, polluting the German country side.
Eyes alone floating in the
Vacuums of the world.
Ashless eyes sinking.
Becoming entombed in the
Belly of the earth
Which does not reject
Even one of them

Finally, I just returned from two incredible events—one in DC, one in NYC. Both have inspired me greatly, and I’ll share a taste with you.

Pete Seeger at 90th birthday celebration at Madison Square Garden

Bruce Springsteen honoring Pete Seeger

Joan Baez honoring Pete Seeger

New York City—Madison Square Garden Pete Seeger turned 90 in May, and his friends (including Joan Baez, Bruce Springsteen, Arlo Guthrie, Ani DeFranco, and many others) paid tribute not only to Pete’s birthday, but most importantly, to the goodness, commitment, honesty and unwavering sense of ethics that Pete has symbolized for his entire life. Inspired by Pete—who was a lifelong friend of my dear friend and equally inspiring mentor, Tony Schwartz—I will be dedicating exhibitions this year to Pete, in honor of his 90th birthday.

Flags of the armies that liberated concentration camps

Elie Wiesel speaking at Days of Remembrance, Washington, DC

President Obama speaks, with Elie Wiesel looking on

Ann’s reunion with book signing staff at US Holocaust Museum

Washington, D.C. I was privileged to attend the National Commemoration of the Holocaust at the Rotunda of the Capital, with members of Congress, Supreme Court, survivors, liberators and others. Because the keynote speaker was President Obama, security was extremely high, and tickets particularly restricted. In addition to a moving speech by Obama, the ‘warm-up’ act was Nobel Prize Laureate Elie Wiesel, who affirmed:

‘There are certain things you cannot do, and still remain human…. Our community [of survivors] is decreasing daily. For killers, it was human to be inhuman. I believe that every day … we must choose life and children grow up with a smile… Even on the edge of the abyss, it is possible to dream exalted dreams. Even in exile, friendship will come. I still believe in language, even if it has been corrupted by the enemy. I still believe in the future.’

He concluded with these words:

‘For the dead, it is too late.
For the children, it is not too late.
For the children, for ALL the children, it is not too late.’

Elie affirmed our need to cherish and protect ALL children. In this vein, whenever I am brought to give a speech, open an exhibition, or whatever, I will make it a priority to meet with students in challenged schools and will arrange special programs, events, learning experiences that will heighten their thinking and expand their view of the world. When I spoke in Indianapolis’ largest urban high school, or a rural school in the Aryan Nation headquarters vicinity, we touched minds—Not a sound was heard, no one moved, even when the dismissal bell rang. And in Hawaii, when I spoke to an economically depressed school where no outside speaker had come for over 10 years, kids even cut class so they could hear more stories, and stayed after school to talk.

Help me as I launch a new initiative to raise funds to sponsor special programs for students in needy districts, and to develop programs designed especially for them. These programs will not only emphasize tolerance, but will go much further toward increasing understanding, and heightening the sense of humanity we all share.

Please help with funds CLICK HERE to DONATE (secure site) and ideas (CLICK HERE).

Many thanks, and many good wishes to you,

Ann Weiss

Updated May 5, 2009

Here at Eyes from the Ashes Educational Foundation, there has been much progress, much travel and many new audiences—Massachusetts, Texas, Maine, New York, Israel, DC, and even, my first time back in thirty years, the Catskills!

The people, the experiences have been so deeply meaningful and unforgettable.

I’d like to ‘bring’ you with me, and highlight a few—with apologies to those not specifically mentioned because of space limitations.

Massachusetts—Boston/Cambridge and Marblehead

In Cambridge, Massachusetts, I spoke to university students at Simmons College and Wentworth Institute, thanks to Dean Diane Raymond and Professor Joanne Tuck. Great experience with students, faculty and community members—despite grave technological problems at Simmons and challenging questions at Wentworth. The question: “Why does this matter?” [My answer another time].

But it was in Marblehead, Massachusetts that I met someone I will never forget, Avram Rogozinski, a survivor from Poland, who displayed unimaginable courage a moment before his friend was to be killed. Avram’s courage teaches what it means to remain human in the face of inhumanity. When he was honored at Cohen Hillel Academy, I was lucky enough to give the keynote at their annual fundraiser to benefit the library.

To learn his remarkable story, please click here to connect to the LEARNING section or click below.

THE COURAGE AND HUMANITY OF AVRAM ROGOZINSKI

Two places/two events like no other I have experienced:

LIBERTY BELL in Philadelphia and Corpus Christi, TEXAS.

BEIJING, CHINA—
Those two words connote many things. In 2008, of course, they mean the Olympics. For everyone who remembers Tiannamen Square, we think of tanks and many students—but one student in particular—and the Chinese government’s crushing response to the voices for democracy.

As the Olympic torch was being relayed around the world (and because of vast protests in Paris and London and San Francisco, among other cities), there was a relay of another kind going on: GLOBAL HUMAN RIGHTS TORCH RELAY taking place at the Liberty Bell.

I was asked to represent the Jewish voice, both because of my Holocaust perspective and because of my efforts against human rights abuses. Especially because so much of my innocent family was brutalized, beaten, starved and so many murdered—precisely because of that legacy, I cannot take the human rights lightly. And so I spoke about my background, my beliefs, and I shared my thoughts with the audience. It was a great honor at the symbol of our nation’s liberty, Philadelphia’s Liberty Bell, to share the stage with representatives of the Dalai Lama, and other religious and secular activists.

CORPUS CHRISTI, TEXAS

Kim Vogel and John Watson, co-directors of Peoples Street Gallery, heard about Eyes from the Ashes from Texas author Frank McMillan, who wrote “Cezanne is Missing.” Together, these three pooled contacts and resources to bring The Last Album Photo Exhibition to Corpus Christi. The irony of photos of murdered Jews exhibited in the city named for the body of Christ, was not lost. Most remarkable about this venue was the overwhelming outpouring of the audience. As Director-Owner John Vogel said, “We have never had this many people at any event, ever! Hundreds were here—and this despite the wrong date printed in the newspaper.” Chimed in his Co-Director/Co-Owner Kim Vogel, “And we still had another hundred on the street waiting to come in!” She added, “Ann, I’ve had so many people so amazed and so moved by your exhibition, and they all want to know—‘How did we ever get an exhibition like this?’ It’s been an incredible experience, and bringing your photos to Corpus Christi—where we’ve never had anything like this—is the most important thing I’ve ever done in my career!’

I am humbled by her words, and grateful for the community’s outpouring.

As I close, I want to wish you, not only a good beginning to the year, but also a new beginning to parts of your lives that you wish could be changed. These photos and this project, over these past twenty years, have taught me many things—but one seems apt to mention now: As long as you have life, you have hope. And, taking strength from the power of these photos, and from the lives un-lived, make your life count.

All good wishes,
Ann Weiss

My plan for the next six months is simple: Share more photos, share more narratives with more student/adult groups, ecumenical and otherwise. Mount the photo exhibition and screen the video montage of these personal family photos found at Auschwitz-Birkenau for more cities, so that more minds can be opened. As more and more research is completed, more and more identifications emerge, and more and more stories continue to be unearthed. With each discovery, in a sense, more and more lives are being preserved, shared and remembered. Click here to learn more about these photos.

I recently returned from Florida, where I reconnected with Holocaust survivors, who have shared their memories with me over the course of many years—it is their memories that transformed these photos from anonymous images to cherished photos of friends and family, many of whose stories we now know.

The photos in The Last Album show the images and memories that Jews deported to Auschwitz couldn’t leave behind. They show who and what they cherished most, the very photos they chose for remembering their own lives.

Letters to Share with You

In the last director’s message, I shared an extraordinary letter from Paris.

I receive beautiful letters from people who have read the book,
seen my film or viewed my traveling photo exhibition. I feel so
grateful for all of them, but recently a letter arrived from Paris
that stood out for me—and not only because I had to dig deep
in the recesses of my high school memory to translate it.
Though Monsieur Luc has never met me, he took the time to
tell me what happened when he wandered into a French
bookstore and found my book on a table [Note: in addition
to English versions of The Last Album, there exist also French
and German editions, published by Autrements and Piper Verlag,
respectively). Following is an excerpt of the letter from Paris:

… I ought to tell you that I’m not…a Jew.
[In the bookstore, they had The Last Album].
I don’t know why, I decided to buy it. When I came to my home,
I submerged myself in the album—in emotions, in tears, in suffering—
the love for all these people.

Well, for them and for me, I would like to thank you.
Due to you, I have the impression yesterday of these
people—their brothers, their sisters, their parents, their
friends—have been alive, have been happy at the time
of my reading.

I am not more than a drop of water in that human
ocean but I want to save the memory of those people
and not forget that one day in … 2007, a book provoked
my tears…

In his letter, and in his words that followed (the complete
letter can be read in the Share your Thoughts section),
Luc is performing one of the most powerful acts possible,
remembering the souls of the dead.

I thank Luc, and all those who have written to me, for the gift of your words, the treasure of your thoughts, and the inspiration they have given me to continue.

I’d also like to share with you a few student and adult letters sent after seeing these photos and hearing these stories.

Selected Adult Comments
on book, film, exhibition, speeches
The Last Album: Eyes from the Ashes of Auschwitz-Birkenau

“This is a document of human perseverance, a testament to the
horrors–and the wonder–of the human spirit, and a snapshot of
the soul of a people in more innocent times.”

–David Friend, Special Projects, Vanity Fair,
former LIFE Magazine Photo Editor

This album shows all our lives at a time when we were living,
not when we were dying—In these smiling faces, I see all our
families, all our youth groups, our sports clubs and synagogues,
the smiling faces when we were together. These pictures mirror
every town and every city where the Jewish people were living
and thriving before the war. The tragedy is that these fragments
emerged only after most of the people were already dead in the
crematorium. The triumph is that these photos emerged at all!
Thanks to Ann Weiss, the historical value of this book is that you
can now see the Jewish people in their bloom, not only in their
suffering, and for this, other survivors and I will be eternally
grateful.

Henry Skorr, Holocaust survivor from Kalisz, Poland

“What’s important about this excellent book is that Ann Weiss
shows us the real photos of the real people and you can see
how beautiful the people were, and how beautiful life once was.
I am among the youngest of those who survived, and I believe
that, not the abstract idea, but the concrete reality must be
preserved. In these precious photos, Ann Weiss shows how much
we all have in common, as she displays the full gamut of pre-war
society–men, women, children, religious, not-religious, urban, rural.
It is an important book; it is a beautiful book. Cherish it–It
represents our lives.”

Yaffa Eliach, Founder of the Shtetl Project
Author of Hasidic Tales of the Holocaust, and
There Once was a Time, and creator of the
Tower of Eisheshek, at the DC Holocaust Museum

Holocaust victims, dead or alive, want to be remembered for their
affirmation of life not just their suffering. In The Last Album,
Ann Weiss brilliantly depicts the vibrant Jewish life and culture
that was annihilated in Europe during the German occupation.
The book is a treasure of photos accompanied by narrative
sure to remain etched in readers’ minds.

Eva Fogelman, Ph.D is the author of the award-winning
Conscience and Courage: Rescuers of Jews During the
Holocaust and writer and co-producer Breaking the Silence:
Generation After the Holocaust.

“Six million death is a statistic, a datum, but the photograph
of a child—that is a knowable tragedy! A group of friends—that
is a horror! They killed, one by one. These photographs show
me people, one by one. ‘How was it possible?’ I always ask.
Now I see faces and eyes as I ask.”

Martin Rosenzweig, Math Professor, Rhode Island

“I used to think that the Jews must have done something.
Why else would they be killed? But when I saw these beautiful
pictures [in the newspaper], I was struck with how they were
just like me! And then, their lives ended for no reason except
they were Jews. I just wanted to cry.”

MaryAnne K., Southern Baptist secretary, North Carolina

“By depicting these Jews of Europe at momentous times in their
lives, it gives a context for their deaths that resonates in ways
that the magnitude of the numbers cannot. This portrays the
victims as they themselves would want to be remembered.”

Josey Borowsky Stamm, Esq., University of the Arts

“Transformed the Holocaust from an unimaginable recitation
of statistics to an intensely personal realization of what and
who were lost, from a focus on death to an affirmation of life.”

Rabbi Henry Cohen, Pennsylvania

“Your film .. invited me to participate. Yes, it was the eyes.
The wall was gone which separated me from Jewish life—for
me, there had been only Jewish death, and no end. We must
not forget, but your film adds a new note of not forgetting.
Remembering lives and individual faces builds a bridge to today.”

Friederich Gronnar, former Hitler Youth, psychiatrist now
devoted to peace work in Germany

Student Comments about the Photos and Stories

There are three major themes that emerge when students write
or comment re: the photos:
1-“I never saw normal pictures of Jews, just the horrible
    ones—until now.”
2-“Learn about the Holocaust, so we don’t repeat the history.”
3-“It makes me appreciate my own life.”

Following is a sampling of letters received from Fishers Junior
High School 8th graders, a rural community outside Indianapolis,
and juniors/seniors at North Central High School, the largest
secondary school in urban Indianapolis. The students were mostly
Christian in the rural community, located ironically near White
Supremacist headquarter, and the urban students were both
Black Muslims and Christians—yet the impact of the stories
and the photos was, as you can see, powerfully felt. If limited
time, skip to last comment.

Fishers Junior High School

Mandy, age 14:
“It gave me a new perspective on life.”
Why study the Holocaust? “So nothing that terrible ever
happens again.”

Megan, age 13:
“We are all different, and just because we are a different color
or believe in a different faith doesn’t mean they were not human
and didn’t deserve Freedom.” “The memory that I will take with
me is the faces.”

Julia, age 14:
“[These pictures and stories] don’t let us take life for granted”

Sara, age 13:
“I loved seeing all the smiles when all I thought of was frowns.”

Danny, age 14:
“It helps to see what these people were like before they were
taken to camps. It was an important part of our history and it
should never happen again.”

Tiffanie, age 13:
“[Seeing the photos] gets you more of an idea that these people
looked like us, but just because they were of a different ethnicity,
they were chosen [to die].”

Jennifer, age 13:
“When seeing the photos, they just looked like normal people,
[showing] that we are all equal…. Everyone is equal.
[We must learn about the Holocaust] so history does not repeat
itself and how we should treat people, allpeople, equally.

Ali, age 14:
“It showed me the eyes of the innocent people who became
victims of the Nazis. It … made me understand how lucky I am
and how thankful I should be. Seeing the innocent people’s
eyes got me the most. As I stared at them, I thought to
myself, these are people like me….I think we should get into
groups and talk….

Lenn, age 14:
“People only see the pictures of awful things that happened.
They can’t realize these Jewish people were …normal, just
like us.” “I will always remember to never judge anyone.
This is so important, no one should be judged by their religion.”

Dan, age 13:
“The only photos that I have ever seen were of the brutality….
The photos help to show that these people were normal like
anyone else….the people in the photos were smiling.”

I told a story about a courageous young
man, named Emanuel, who escaped from the Warsaw
Ghetto and helped to save my mother. Many students
commented on his story. Josh says it best.

Josh, age 14:
“The man Emanuel stood out. Someone that courageous is
only found in movies. But he was one in real life.
Emanuel will stick with me because that is who I would like
to be like.”

Alex, age 14:
“I’ve never heard of anyone braver than the Emanuel story.”

Ashley, age 13:
“These photos [and stories] taught me things about life.
I found myself listening intently like, ‘What will happen next?’
All of the stories were very interesting. Life cannot be spent
unwisely….You will find out the importance of forgiveness
and living your life to the fullest.”

North Central High School

Michael, age 16:
“[The pictures] were happy, joyful, showed the life of people
before they were brutalized. They were very moving stories.
Unlike other Holocaust stories, these ones had some joy in
them, in addition to sorrow. …I certainly [now] understand
more of the human perspective. You cannot forget.”

Emily, age 16:
“They are not the same type of photos commonly found in
textbooks. These were much more personal…. The photos
and the stories made the events of the Holocaust all the
more real to me, rather than distant events of another time….
It’s important that we realize the scale of the effects
and learn about those affected.”

Steve, age 17:
“It emphasized the humanity that was destroyed in the Holocaust.
It showed how not just a mass of bodies was destroyed, but a
mass of human life, of real humanity. They [photos and stories of life]
made the horrific Holocaust more personal and therefore more
tragic….It’s important to remember the past to prevent it and
understand how tragedies develop…

Lisa, age 16:
“It made the impact … much more real when I saw the pictures
of people whose lives were taken. The stories were amazing.
They helped me relate to … the victims…and also bring forth
lost memories….”

Mimi, age 16:
“Stories of people’s lives help you relate to them, to see another
perspective and care for someone you’ve never known. Stories
are an essential part of humanity, as is sharing them.” “If you
do not study the mistakes of the past, they will only be repeated.”

Charles, age 16:
“It showed the faces of innocents and showed that Jewish people
were “regular” normal people like everyone else, living their lives.
[I learned that] people fought with their spirits. It is very inspirational.”

Sarah, age 17:
“It was very interesting to hear/see a presentation on the Holocaust
from a different, more positive perspective. It inspired me to do
more research from this point of view. The value of an unending
human spirit is important, and I’m glad I could see the pictures
to remember this idea.”
“The ‘eyes’ motif is very interesting: they serve as windows into
the hearts and lives of these people…[and] truly are symbolic of
the sustained human spirit. It is essential to remember that these
people were not just nameless Jews; they had lives … they
cherished throughout. I would love to hear more stories.”

The most touching responses discussed the preciousness
of life, more fully appreciated after students saw these
photos. Many echoed the views of Mandy Tippmann,
a 14 year old, for whom the Holocaust was made personal
by these images:

“I now think of the Holocaust as … individuals.
It [the photos, stories, presentation] opened a place in my heart
that has never been touched before.”

My Gift to You

In this director’s message, and in each successive one, I will introduce new photos and new stories for you. Today, the Malach Family will be featured.

The Malach Family lived at Modrzejoska 56 in Bendin, Poland (in Polish, the town is called Bedzin), and was known, among other things, for their kosher sausage factory. Here are several photos of the Malach Family.

I was contacted by Zishe’s daughter, Sima, who was named after her murdered aunt, who added, “My father, Zishe, is second from right. He is not stirring the barrel. The two on the left are his uncles, my grandfather’s brothers, Moshe and Itzhak. The first man on the right is my uncle Yehiel. I am not sure who is stirring, but maybe it’s Velvel.”

However, this photo, when explicated, makes a poignant statement of love and yearning.

As Izzy Hollander, who lived at the Bendin Orphanage since he was seven, remembers how the Taranszewski’s would come to the orphanage almost every day to help with the children. Dr. Taranszewski would come when he was not delivering babies, and his wife would come every single day, to help the orphans. “She talked to us, she helped with our studies, she took our temperature to make sure we were healthy, and she made us a feeling of home.”

“I remember when I went to their house for the Sabbath. The building had the first elevator in Bendin, and she made the best chocolate cake I ever ate!”

This photo shows Dr. and Mrs. Taranszewski holding little Abraham, the baby of Sara and Itzhak Malach. Mrs. Taranszewski would sometimes come to the hospital just to hold the babies her husband had just delivered.

The tragedy of Dr. and Mrs. Taranszewski was that, although Dr. Taranszewski delivered babies for so many other families, this couple—despite years of trying—could not have a baby of their own. However, with the love they lavished on the orphans at the Bendin Orphanage, they created a different kind of family for children who missed having a family of their own.

For inquiries about bringing these and other photos to your community, please contact Ann Weiss at annweiss@thelastalbum.org

The Bar Mitzvah Mitzvah

There are a number of ways that a Bar/Bat Mitzvah can be made even more meaningful by making a linkage with these photographs—particularly the photos of children. Recently, David Kimmel, age 13, offered to help Eyes from the Ashes Educational Foundation, this 501(c)3 non-profit foundation, as his Bar Mitzvah ‘Mitzvah’ Project. He and I worked together, found just the way he could help most, and toward that end, David donated both actions and a portion of his mitzvah money to help the work of the foundation.

THE STORY

Isaac and his wife, Rebekah, had two sons, Esau and Jacob.
Before they were born, they had struggled in Rebekah’s womb
and were born with Jacob grabbing at the heal of Esau. As they
grew up, Isaac far preferred his eldest son, Esau, because he
brought Isaac fresh meat from every successful hunt.
Rebekah most loved Jacob, who was milder and stayed close
to home.

One day Esau came home from a poor day’s hunt.
He was famished, and as he entered the tent, he smelled the
fragrant stew that Jacob was making. He pleaded with Jacob
to share, and Jacob said, “Sell me your birthright as first born,
and I shall give you some.” Reasoning that his birthright would
mean nothing to him if he perished from starvation, Esau accepted
this bargain and exchanged his birthright for a bowl of soup.

Isaac dwelled in Abraham’s lands and re-dug his father’s wells
that had been buried by the Philistines. The people of the land
quarreled with him over the first and second of these wells, but
not the third well. So Isaac kept the third well giving it the same
name as Abraham had and sent his servants to dig a new fourth
well which flowed with fresh new water.

As Isaac became old, his eyes grew weak, and he said
to Esau, “I soon will die, so bring me meat and I shall give you
my innermost blessing.” Rebekah overheard this and said secretly
to Jacob, “Go to the flock and fetch two goats, and I will make
the dish your father likes. Then cover yourself with a goatskin
so Isaac will think you are big and hairy like Esau. Approach your
father dressed in Esau’s clothes and give him the meat so that
you receive the blessing from your father first.”

Jacob did as his mother said and deceived his father
into thinking he was Esau. Isaac gave Jacob his finest blessing
to be prosperous and to be master of his brothers and other nations.
No sooner had Jacob left than the real Esau entered and said,
“Bless me now, Father.” But Isaac trembled violently and cried that
he could not give an equal blessing. Esau wailed and wept, “Have
you but one blessing, Father? Haven’t you reserved a blessing?
Bless me too, Father!” And so Isaac gave him an inferior blessing,
and Esau loathed his brother more than ever before.

Rebekah advised Jacob to flee the land and go stay with
her brother until Esau’s anger would subside.

THE LESSONS

Some people might see this as the story of two brothers who were
enemies since birth. But there is a deeper meaning beyond sibling
rivalry. This Par’sha is called “Tol Dot” which means “Generations.”
In the story there are connections to the past, present, and future
in this long family line. You can not look at the fighting of Esau and
Jacob without examining what they learned from Isaac and Rebekah
and wondering what exactly Isaac wanted to pass along to his sons.
It seems that in passing along blessings for health and happiness, he
also gave them reason to be angry and distrustful of each other.

In fact, throughout the Torah, we see numerous generations
of parents picking favorites among their children and creating
bitterness and rivalry. Abraham banished his first son Ishmael
in favor of Isaac. And, Isaac favored Esau over Jacob. Why
couldn’t Isaac have loved them equally? Even Esau questions
why his father’s love is so limited. The Torah doesn’t explain why
these preferences are created. Perhaps Rebekah would not have
felt the need to stick up for Jacob if Isaac had treated them equally.
As a father himself, Jacob favored Joseph over his other twelve
brothers. And so, each generation carried forward this selective
favoritism until Joseph who intentionally broke the cycle by blessing
his children, Ephraim and Manasseh equally, and it is said that
his boys never fought. Today, when children are blessed on Shabbat,
we say to the boys may you be like Ephraim and Manasseh.

At the same time, Isaac did some things right. He prospered
when he followed Abraham’s example and listened to God and
followed by God’s laws. During the years that Isaac prospered
he went back to the wells of his father. He could use one of the
wells but even after he unclogged the others, the people fought
with him over ownership. When he dug his own well he found
that it flowed with fresh clean water and no one argued with him
over it. The new well represents new ideas. When he followed
the exact same path as his father he found it “clogged” with old
ideas. But when he followed his own path he found a fresh new
source.

It may be easy to say, “I will not make the same mistakes as
my parents. I will follow what I know to be right.” But it’s a lot
harder to do. Because if you decide to learn from the past, you
have to know what really happened. And without a good role
model, you have to go into unexplored territory, to create new
ideas and teachings. And there’s another risk. What if you’re
wrong? What if the new ideas are simply a greater mistake?
The lessons from generations before you are only as useful as
what you do with them.

This par’sha is a particularly good example of how the Torah
does not try to make people always look noble. It shows both
the best and worst in this family. You have to know that even
the people we admire were not always perfect. In fact, the best
way to honor the memory of previous generations is not to sugarcoat
history but to take an honest look at who people were and what the
consequences of their choices were. You don’t want to turn your back
on the past, but you don’t want to try to erase the parts that are
unpleasant or make people look bad just because it’s easier or makes
a nicer story. You’re more likely to repeat a mistake if you don’t
know what really happened. The Torah is definitely harsh in its
presentation of people. But the blessing for us, is that by studying
these stories in all their honesty, you can try to make wiser choices
going forward. Isaac was literally and figuratively short-sighted,
and we can see the consequences of his stingy love. He almost
drove his sons to fratricide. And love wasn’t and isn’t even a
limited resource like water which Isaac was better at tapping into.

WHERE DO I FIND MYSELF IN THIS STORY?

I am the oldest out of the three boys in my family. As the Elder
brother I must set a good example for my younger siblings. For
example: If I share with my brothers they will share back. If I
yell at my brothers they will yell back. Just like in the story,
good (or bad) behavior is passed through generations because
of role models in the families. Isaac could have blessed both his
sons equally, but he decided that Essau was more important than
Jacob. Isaac might have picked up this idea from one of the role
models in his life, Abraham. If Abraham loved Ishmael and Isaac
equally then maybe Isaac would have picked up the trait and loved
his sons equally and Jacob would have loved his sons equally. But
unfortunately, no one set a good role model in this topic and that
caused a lot of conflicts. Each new generation makes a choice.
They may choose not to follow their ancestors, and this may be a
bad thing, or maybe a good thing. So following the example of
this story I am obliged to set a good example for the younger people
in my family and show them the right path to choose.

To discuss personalized Bar/Bat Mitzvah ideas or to share your thoughts, questions and ideas, please contact Ann Weiss at annweiss@thelastalbum.org

Holidays. Gifts. Families It’s the time of the holidays when loved ones come together to share memorable times.

In this season of gift giving, recently I was given three gifts that touched me deeply: a letter, an action and a comment.

Letter - from Paris

I receive beautiful letters from people who have read the book, seen my film or viewed my traveling photo exhibition. I feel so grateful for all of them, but recently a letter arrived from Paris that stood out for me—and not only because I had to dig deep in the recesses of my high school memory to translate it. Though Monsieur Luc has never met me, he took the time to tell me what happened when he wandered into a French bookstore and found my book on a table [Note: in addition to English versions of The Last Album, there exist also French and German editions, published by Autrements and Piper Verlag, respectively). Following is an excerpt of the letter from Paris:

… I ought to tell you that I’m not…a Jew. [In the bookstore, they had The Last Album]. I don’t know why, I decided to buy it. When I came to my home, I submerged myself in the album—in emotions, in tears, in suffering—the love for all these people.

I am not more than a drop of water in that human ocean but I want to save the memory of those people and not forget that one day in … 2007, a book provoked my tears…

In his letter, and in his words that followed (the complete letter can be read in the ‘Share your Thoughts’ section), Luc is performing one of the most powerful acts possible, remembering the souls of the dead. As Nobel Laureate Elie Wiesel has so often said, “To forget them is to kill them once again!”

I thank Luc, and all those who have written to me, for the gift of your words, the treasure of your thoughts, and the inspiration they have given me to continue.

Action - The Bar Mitzvah Mitzvah

Recently I was contacted by a young man, David Kimmel, age 13, who offered to help Eyes from the Ashes Educational Foundation, my 501(c)3 non-profit foundation, in association with his upcoming Bar Mitzvah. We worked together, found just the thing that would help most, and toward that end, David is donating both his actions and also a portion of his mitzvah money to the foundation.

As soon as possible, an excerpt of David’s Bar Mitzvah teaching will be added for you.

In the seventies and eighties, those involved with the Soviet Jewry
movement remember the way young Jews in the Soviet Union who
were unable to practice their Judaism were ‘twinned’ with children
then becoming Bar- and Bat- Mitzvah. In a similar way, in this time
of fewer and fewer survivors, I am suggesting that we add a new
dimension to Bar and Bat Mitzvahs: the twinning of children from the
Holocaust, who never had a chance to live, with 13-year olds
currently becoming a Bar/Bat Mitzvah. [Note: For children of other
faiths, on a personalized level, I will also develop other adaptations of
memory and meaning). Because the 1.5 million children killed in the
Holocaust never had a chance to mature, and grow, and take their place
as adult members of the community, in this ritual of remembering them
in a life-affirming and personalized way, they have a chance to
‘live’ once more.

The Comment - A Gift from the Heartland

I speak to many audiences, but none is more important to me than speaking to students.

Many experiences, many talks with students. One time in Indiana stands out:

I was speaking to hundreds of thirteen and fourteen year olds, telling stories about the people in The Last Album photos. It was a bad situation: It was the end of the school day; the kids were sitting in uncomfortable bleachers in the gym; the acoustics were bad, AND this school was near the headquarters of a national white supremacist group!

Yet when the dismissal bell rang, no one moved. The kids wanted to hear the end of the story—a real-life narrative. Imagine, stories from The Last Album kept them glued to their seats!

Afterward, a 13-year old boy told me, “I see lots of action heroes on TV, but nobody compares to Emmanuel. I wish I could be as brave as Emmanuel when I grow up!”

A 14-year old girl expressed her feelings this way, “You’ve touched a place in my heart that has never been touched before!”

The power of these photos, and the accompanying stories of the innocent people who carried them into Auschwitz, can pierce through the distance, the years, the hatred.

It is comments like these that fuel me, and compel me to continue this work.

As you share these holidays with your precious loved ones, as you create your own memories with your families and friends, perhaps these photos will inspire you—
to live more,
to give more,
to do more.

If you would like to help, please Click Here.

In their memory, try to make life better…for yourself, for those you love and for those who most need your help.

Warmest wishes to you all for a new year that brings you joy, that brings you love, that brings us all peace, Ann

July/August 2007

It is the day before I am leaving for Sarajevo to participate in the world gathering of Genocide scholars, meeting for the first time in a place where massacre has taken place. Although I am filled with much apprehension—both because of the topic and the intensity of the conference—its importance makes me grateful to be participating. I know the experience, though difficult, will be transformative. For new understandings I will glean, and new people I will meet, I am deeply appreciative.

Though the conference topic is genocide and the worst that people can do to other people, I will be speaking about the flip side: how one can remain human in the face of inhumanity. Having examined the lives of two exceptional Jewish Holocaust survivors, at the conference, I will share narratives of their courage, agency, goodness and compassion—despite the barbarity of circumstances surrounding them. For those of you who are interested in a detailed summary of the conference, click here.

For all of you, I hope this summer is a time of growth—or respite—whatever you need most, and that you regenerate those parts of you that most need regeneration. It’s a strange thing to say, but I think that a kind of regeneration will take place in me this summer in Bosnia-Herzegovina—as ironic as that may seem. Sometimes, just by getting out of one’s environment, life can be seen more clearly. In this case, by immersing myself in both the topic of, as well as the place of, genocide, I suspect that I will not only learn about death, but as has been the case with The Last Album, from such a place of death can come an even deeper appreciation for life.

I wish for you whatever kind of summer you wish—and need.

See you in September,

Ann Weiss