Sapir and Sasha

My mother was liberated from a munitions factory on May 8, 1945.

She never spoke about her experiences except for a few details. She said that when arrived in Auschwitz she saw a wagon load of corpses and thought “What fine white pigs”, that she was terrified of the electric fence, that starvation caused her gums to cover her teeth and that she was hit in the head with the butt of a rifle leaving a permanent depression in her forehead.

She offered no analyses, insights, resolutions or additional facts.

I never asked her a single question.

I think I thought that If I disturbed her, unmoored her, I would no longer have a mother and I would be alone just as she had been when she was separated from her parents on the Auschwitz rail tracks.

So, I concerned myself with being a perfect American child and galloped along the crowded Brooklyn sidewalks atop my imaginary horse.

I was reminded of my mother a few days ago when my synagogue in Palm Beach, FL invited Sapir Cohen and Sasha Troufanov, former 10/7 hostages to speak at an event.

The attendees stood and clapped as they entered the room.

I found myself motionless.

They spoke English well. They looked healthy and even smiled when appropriate.

How did they survive?

In a calm and thoughtful manner, Sasha spoke of how he compartmentalized his thoughts and behavior and focused on what he could do to better his lot and not what had happened him.

Sapir told us that her that her ability to support and comfort a 16 year fellow captive gave her strength and purpose.

I realized the difference between these former prisoners (my mother would have called them “kassetzlinkehs”) and Shoah survivors.

These young people had an Israel, an IDF which molded and shaped their identity and self-worth. They knew that they were not alone.

I looked as Sasha.

His name spoke volumes. His family apparently was part of the great migration of Russian emigres who came to Israel after the fall of the Soviet Union. I think he said that his grandmother had been in Auschwitz.

It would be too easy to say “Maybe she knew my mother” but the truth is she did. Their joint experiences as as near victims of the annihilation of European Jewry made them sisters and that made Sasha my cousin.

I hope that Sapir and Sasha return to Israel, marry and have lots of children.

From them, we will prosper and endure.