Nina Bassat - rodzina Wargoń

Hadassa Katz (Wargoń), Janina (Nina) Katz and Moshe Wargoń, Lwów 1941

In the last edition of Centre News, we began a series of articles highlighting the stories of some of our donors, in recognition for the outstanding support we have received as the Jewish Holocaust Centre (JHC) embarks on its major redevelopment. We continue in this edition with the stories of Nina Bassat and Rosie Lew and their families, focusing on their backgrounds and their reasons for choosing to support the Centre.
Born in Lwów, Poland in 1939, the daughter of Hadassa Wargoń and Izydor Katz, Nina is one of the few child survivors of the Lwów ghetto and counts every day of her life as a gift. Hadassa’s family were importers and exporters of grain; her father Moshe Wargoń was a city councillor in Jędrzejów, a member of Mizrachi and a staunch Zionist. Izydor studied in Lwów, where his family operated a glazing and picture framing business. Of the extended Katz family, there were no survivors other than Hadassa and Nina; of the Wargoń family, only a handful survived. Izydor Katz was killed on Petlura Day, 26 July 1941, his thirtieth birthday; the rest of the family were lost at Treblinka, at Auschwitz, at Belzec. The remnants of the family, Hadassa, her brother Sam Wargoń, her sister Sara Przysuska and her niece Masza Przysuska were reunited in a DP camp in Bad Wörishofen, Germany. Sara and Masza survived the Łódź Ghetto and Auschwitz-Birkenau and were liberated at Bergen-Belsen, but Sara tragically died in 1948.
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„Do not forget” and „Tell them what happened” is also part of the ethos of the Bassa-Gillis family, who would not be here if it were not for the survival of Hadassa Katz (later Teicher) and Nina Bassat.
The remaining four members of the family came to Australia in 1949, after several applications to go to Palestine were rejected.

 

The two photographs which encompass five generations of our family have one common link. In the first, Nina is the chold clutching her grandfather’s beard; in the second, she is the grandmother surrounded by her children and grandchildren. These two photographs encapsulate the miracle of survival and of regeneration, and they also mandate the responsibility and the priviledge of commemoration and of remembrance.
Nina Bassat AM is a lawyer who has served as President of the Jewish Community Council of Victoria and the Executive Council of Australian Jewry. She has contributed her time and expertise to many other organisations, both local and overseas, and has ben a Trustee of the Jewish Holocaust Centre Foundation since its establishment in 2008.

Źródło / source:

https://issuu.com/jhc_comms/docs/jhc7-virtual_book/s/11102423

Pola Lipnowski

“They’re going to come with the dogs. They’re going to start beating me.” Pola Lipnowski spoke in Yiddish, an expression of sheer terror on her face. She turned to her daughter, Hendel Schwartz, for protection.

But Lipnowski was not in Poland. She was in her room at Emmy Monash Aged Care, a residential facility in Melbourne, Australia. “You’re safe. I’m here,” Schwartz reassured her.
Still, in her mind, Lipnowski, who was born June 1, 1920, was back in Jedrzejow, Poland, where her family — her husband and son, her parents and her seven siblings and their families — were relocated to the ghetto in spring 1940. “They’re going to start taking people away. They took away my parents,” she told Schwartz.
This time it was her dementia and not the Nazis that imprisoned her, returning her to the Jedrzejow ghetto where she was forced to cook and launder for the German soldiers, to a labor camp in Czestochowa where she operated machinery and incurred a cut that traversed the length of her left arm, and to a death march to Auschwitz, where, ill with typhus, she was liberated by the Russian army on Jan. 27, 1945. Lipnowski was the only member of her family to survive.
Schwartz, who lives in Los Angeles, had asked her mother to move to California years earlier, before the dementia set in. But Lipnowski was adamant about remaining in Melbourne with her tight-knit Jewish community, most of whom were Yiddish-speaking survivors from Poland. In 2005, she moved to Emmy Monash, and in 2009 she was transferred to the dementia unit. Schwartz spent weeks at a time with her, staying by her side from morning to evening, speaking to her in her native Yiddish and trying to comfort her as her dementia destroyed her short-term memory and reawakened traumas suffered in the Holocaust.
Schwartz also noticed other behaviors she attributed to her mother’s war experiences. Lipnowski hid bread and an occasional banana. She wanted to save any food left over from her meals. And when Schwartz tried to take her for a walk outside the building, Lipnowski stopped at the door and demanded, “Take me back.”Then, in 2011, Lipnowski’s memories turned to an earlier period in her childhood — she talked about the family bakery and her sister — and her nightmares ended. Eventually she stopped eating and died on June 27, 2012.
“I lived with this for so many years, but nobody talked about it,” said Schwartz, adding that the staff at Emmy Monash “were aware and not aware.” Because Schwartz grew up in a community where her generation had no grandparents, they also had no knowledge of old people.” “I had to learn my way through it,” she said.
Historically, the distinct effects of dementia on Holocaust survivors were not recognized until long after World War II ended. For one, those who survived the horrors of the Nazis tended to be younger and did not fall prey to Alzheimer’s or other forms of dementia until decades later. Also, it wasn’t until the mid-1960s that Alzheimer’s was even identified as a disease and not part of the normal aging process.
But, for survivors, growing old is not necessarily a normal experience, as life events can awaken Holocaust memories, according to Shoshana Yaakobi, a senior social worker and Holocaust Resource Program coordinator at Baycrest, a health sciences center focused on the aging in Toronto. For example, older survivors spend more time visiting doctors, and in the camps, doctors weren’t to be trusted. When they get sick, which was a death sentence under the Nazis, or suffer the death of a spouse, the experiences bring back all the losses they endured during the Holocaust.
In 2003, Baycrest published “Caring for Aging Holocaust Survivors,” a manual that for the first time presented comprehensive information and strategies for caring for this specific and often challenging population.
In the 10 years since the manual was published, the behaviors of the survivors have not changed, according to Yaakobi, but health professionals have learned more, especially in understanding what can trigger certain behaviors.
“There are triggers you can anticipate — things like loud voices, sounds of steps like boots, dogs barking, certain smells, like disinfectants,” Yaakobi said. Other triggers are less obvious. One survivor told her that the sound of a train always evokes memories of the train that took her to Auschwitz. Another survivor with severe dementia pointed to a standing pole used for IV drip bags and said, “Don’t you see the cross? They’re going to kill us.”In addition to suffering dementia, older survivors are generally particularly frail. And they are prone to conditions such as osteoporosis, impaired vision and cardiac issues resulting from experiencing prolonged malnutrition and other traumas in the camps.
For Jewish Family Service (JFS) of Los Angeles, this translates to an increased need for home care, which includes help with cleaning, cooking, laundry, bathing, grocery shopping, medical appointments and errands.
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But with nearly half of all people aged 85 and older suffering from Alzheimer’s or other forms of dementia to some degree, according to the Alzheimer’s Association, the number of people now vividly reliving their Holocaust horrors is substantial.“It’s unimaginable what these people had to go through,” Hendel Schwartz said. “And to have to repeat the process is so unfair,
so hard.”

Źródło:
https://jewishjournal.com/culture/lifestyle/115055/