From Despair to Happiness

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Chapter One

My Childhood and Family

My name is Hannelore Kahn Marx. I was born in August, 1922 in Stuttgart, Germany. My parents were Max Kahn from Gemmingen/Baden, and Hilda nee Pick from Stuttgart Bad-Cannstatt, both places found in the southern parts of Germany.

Stuttgart is the most beautiful city one can imagine. It lies in a valley surrounded by hills. There is greenery everywhere: vineyards, gardens, and forests. From those hills, one has a lovely view of the city.

Max and Anna Kahn nee Pick

My brother, Heinz, born in August, 1921, and I spent a wonderful childhood in Stuttgart. We lived in an apartment building with five other families. We had two bedrooms, a living room, a dining room, a kitchen/balcony, and a toilet. In those days, most people had no bathroom, but went to a public toilet instead. Downstairs we had two cellars, one to store wood and coal for our heating in the winter, the other to store potatoes, apples, pears, and home-canned fruit and pickles. My brother shared a room with me when we were small children. Later, I slept on a couch in the living room.

Our parents were loving, wonderful, warm-hearted people, who raised us to be devout Jews, with understanding for each other, as well as for all others. We had lots of friends, both Jewish and Gentile. Our leisure time was spent mostly in the street, in front of our building. Because we lived on a dead-end street there was hardly any traffic.

We played stickball or hide-and-seek with our friends. Both my brother and I attended four years of elementary school, within walking distance of home. My bother was a much better student than his little sister. Yet, I always managed to rank somewhere in the middle of my class.

Once a week, on Wednesday afternoons, we had no school. Instead, we had to attend Hebrew school. One hour of Hebrew, one hour of Bible stories. This was a must for every Jew in our society. Our teachers were strict, while some of them had the gift for making the Bible stories interesting.

Our synagogue in Stuttgart was a large and sturdy building. Its service was not orthodox; they even had an organ played by a Gentile man, since Jews are not permitted to play instruments on the Sabbath or holidays. There was a mixed choir, also, although men and women sat separate from one another. The service was solemn, and people did not talk to one another.

Our family did not worship in Stuttgart’s beautiful temple. Instead, we attended the synagogue in nearby Stuttgart Bad-Cannstatt, where our mother was born, and where our beloved grandparents lived. Some of our other relatives lived there, also. On holidays, we always had a large family gathering for dinner. The temple in Bad-Cannstatt was much smaller, and everyone knew one another. It also had an organ and a mixed choir.

Our mother sang in the choir, as well as her two unmarried sisters, Ella and Gretl. Sometimes, I was allowed to go upstairs with my mother, and I felt very proud to sing along with the choir, overlooking the entire congregation. We children were interested in watching a woman in the back room constantly pumping air into the mechanism of the organ, so that it could be played. This was done with a long handle. In those days, organs were not electrified.

Ernst Pick

Anna Pick nee Ostertag

Our grandparents, Ernst Pick and Anna nee Ostertag, owned a big house on the main plaza in the middle of Stuttgart Bad-Cannstatt. On the street floor, there was a large store selling men’s clothing. In an adjoining building, tailors made custom-ordered suits for a wealthier clientele. The big store carried mostly suits for the working class. My grandfather and his brother-in-law, Ernst Ostertag, were joint owners.

Heinz and I loved visiting our grandparents. We were the oldest of their grandchildren and the only ones living nearby. With great pride, Grandmother introduced us to everybody we met on the street. She always bought gifts for us. At Chanukah, my brother had a little wooden play-grocery store with drawers for sweets to sell to his playmates with fake money. The entire store was filled each year to capacity by our Grandmother Anna. She had a golden heart.

(l. to r.) Bernhard, Ella, Gretl, Erma, Julius, Hilda, Emil, Manfred

Our grandparents had eight children, four sons and four daughters. Mama was the third child. She attended good schools and had an excellent education. She studied for six years at an academy of music, learning piano. She also had voice lessons from a famous opera singer, Sigrid Onegin. When I think of the bills for groceries, clothing, shoes, and doctors, besides the higher education (no scholarships then), I now strongly believe that Grandfather Ernst must have been a very rich man to pay for all those expenses. When our parents got married, my mother received a dowry of $20, 000, as well as furniture. Her sister, Gretl, who never married, and her sister, Ella, who did not marry while she lived in Germany, both received nothing.

The Kahn Family (Mom and Dad top right, Grandparents in front with Heinz and Me)

Heinz and I were good, obedient children, but, by no means, saints. There were a few incidents when our dear mother lost her patience with me, which I never forgot. When I was about three years old, my favorite dress was white. It had little chicks along the hemline. I just loved this dress, and it was only to be worn on special occasions. All of the clothes that we outgrew, Mama would give to our needy neighbors. They were glad to get our hand-me-downs, still in good condition. One day, I missed this dress in my closet and inquired about it. Mama told me that she gave it away. I had such a tantrum! I carried on until Mama lost her patience and gave me a well-deserved spanking. Mama claimed that she did not want to hurt her hand spanking us, so she used a bamboo stick or a carpet clapper, instead. This was considered a normal punishment, not child abuse. We only got punished when we deserved it.

Heinz and me

I was not more than four years old when, for some reason, I was punished and sent from the dinner table to stay on the kitchen/balcony. Among other items kept on the balcony was the garbage pail. We had had potatoes with our dinner, and the peels were lying on top inside the pail. I opened the lid, took out some peels, and shouted loudly for all the neighbors to hear, My mother lets me go hungry. All I get to eat are potato peels! Well…Mama let me have it. That time, she put me over her knees and used her hand.

Grandfather Ernst was quite a character. He was a good provider and father to his children, but he was very strict and did not spare his bamboo stick, when he thought it was necessary. But, with his grandchildren, he was softhearted and gentle. When we spent time with him in Stuttgart Bad Cannstatt, he took us on walks in the morning to the park. He bought bird food and showed us how to feed the birds, letting them sit on our fingers.

In later years, I remember well, Grandfather became hooked on card playing. After lunch, his main meal, he would leave the house and play his favorite game, Pinochle, at a nearby coffee house. While playing, he forgot about his business, his wife, and his family. The playroom was for men only. They could sit there and drink just one cup of coffee, playing and smoking, until closing time. Then, Grandfather remembered he had a home to go to. His poor wife had to bear it, knowing she could not change him.

Many times, when we came to visit our grandparents for the day, Grandmother Anna would send us to the coffee house to bring Grandfather home. Each time, it was the same story. When we finally found him among the many other men in that smoke-filled room, he was overjoyed to see us. He would say, Sit down, have an ice cream, and then I will come with you. After we finished the ice cream, he would say, Go home, and I will come in a short while. When he finally came home at closing time, and Grandmother Anna got angry, he would reply, Why didn’t you send the children for me? He was not aware that we had even been there to see him.

The coffee house also had a poolroom. Our cousin Ann, a year younger than I, and visiting, once, from Munich, was fascinated by the blue chalk used for the billiard sticks, and she smeared it all over her hands. Soon afterwards, she stood behind Grandfather’s chair and lovingly stroked his bald head, while talking sweetly into his ears. I am sure he wondered later how this chalk ever got there on his head!

Life, at this time of my youth, was comfortable, with people showing respect for one another. There were friendly smiles on most faces. Unbeknownst to us children, the political situation was tough. Many people were unemployed, and a great need for food was felt in many homes. Our mother, as well as Grandmother Anna, walked about with their wicker baskets full of groceries, visiting needy families, who always showed gratefulness, in return. It is hard, now, to understand that these same people later turned against us, saying only bad things about us, hating us, in the Nazi era.

Our parents had an apartment away from the center of Stuttgart. It was not in the suburbs, but on a quiet residential street with only one grocery store and a bakery. Our family was well known and well liked in the neighborhood. As I mentioned, mother helped many of our poor Gentile neighbors, less fortunate than we were, with food and clothing.

Our parents owned a large housewares store in partnership with a brother of Grandmother Ida, my father’s mother. His name was Adolf Rosenfeld. The partners got along well, trusting and relying on each other. Since Uncle Adolf was the older of the two, the name of the business was Kitchen and House, Rosenfeld & Company. Twice a week was market day in Stuttgart. It was held in the spacious plaza in front of our parents’ store. Farmers arrived early in the morning from surrounding villages to sell their produce. Some of the farmers came to our store to buy merchandise, and, in return, our mother bought from them. When shopping at the market, or in stores, the women had to bring their own baskets and old newspapers for wrapping. Mama always knew the location of the farmers that she wanted to buy from. All fruits and vegetables were bought fresh. Canned produce was a novelty then, and very expensive.

During the summer, Mama, with the help of our maid, made her own jam, jelly, and canned fruit, as well as pickles in jars, to be eaten in the winter. This was a big job, and time-consuming. Fresh apples and pears were stored on top of our bedroom closets and, also, on a special shelf built in our cellar. Once in a while, we had to carefully inspect the fruit to make sure nothing had spoiled. One rotten apple or pear could ruin the others.

Mama was blessed by nature with a rare and beautiful singing voice. As noted, she took piano lessons during her regular school years, and, since she showed real talent, her parents enrolled her in a music conservatory for another six years. She studied with a famous alto opera singer, while Mama was a soprano. Unfortunately, Mama’s voice was not strong enough for the opera, so she decided to become a concert singer, instead. After she had finished with all her studies, she married Papa, our father. That was the end of her career.

She did sing at festivals on several occasions, and she also played piano a few times at our radio station in Stuttgart. Of course, she was a member of the choir of our synagogue in Stuttgart Bad Cannstatt, and there was always a solo part for her to sing. Most of her musical entertaining took place at home, very often with her two children listening, one on each side of her, as she sat at the piano. I can still hear her beautiful voice in my head today.

Our parents dearly loved and respected each other. We had a wonderful family life. Evenings and weekends were spent together. On Sundays, during the summer, we took long hikes in the forests and made picnics. Mama and Papa made sure that our eyes were opened to nature. We were taught the names of trees, flowers, birds, and even butterflies. Almost every Sunday, when the weather was nice, our parents took us somewhere. On winter evenings and weekends, we played family games. On rainy days, when we stayed home, Mama often played the piano for us, and, many times, Mama, Heinz, and I would sing together. Papa did not participate, since he was not musically inclined, but he liked to listen to our songs.

Our father did not have the chance for a higher education. He was also one of eight children. The village of Gemmingen only had a public school system. To go to a better school, children had to be sent to the next city. With tuition and room and board to be paid, it was too great an expense for my Grandparents Kahn. All children attended public school for eight years, and, from that point on, the boys left home to choose a suitable occupation and learn what was needed from life itself. They started as an apprentice, working themselves up, and visiting business school