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I Remember . . .
I was just ten months old in 1939 when my parents carried me aboard the MS St. Louis in Hamburg, Germany, and set out for what they thought would be a new life in Cuba. My memories are not of the journey (I was too young), but of family stories of the journey. It was not until I was 19 or so, and the authors of the book Voyage of the Damned put an ad in the papers looking for survivors of the St. Louis, that I first realized the significance of those stories.
MY PARENTS HAD A PLAN
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From the time Hitler took power in 1933, conditions for Jews in Germany deteriorated. November 10, 1938 was a turning point. Mobs destroyed Jewish homes, vandalized businesses, and burned synagogues. An estimated 100 Jews died in the unrestrained violence now known as Kristallnacht. By January, 1939, Polish Jews were ordered repatriated to Poland—regardless of how long they had lived in Germany. Their numbers included my father, who was forced to leave behind his wife, baby, and family business.
Ten-month-old Eva aboard the St. Louis.
My parents had a plan. If they could book passage and secure a visa to a country willing to accept them, they would be free to leave as a family. My mother’s brother lived in Cuba and helped with the visa. They bought round-trip tickets on the St. Louis with no intention of returning to Germany.
On May 13, 1939, our small family—along with more than 900 other Jews-- set sail.
THE NAZIS ALSO HAD A PLAN
Those on board did not know it, but Nazis planned the voyage of the St. Louis as a propaganda coup. Headlines read “Jews Permitted to Immigrate” while German officials made secret arrangements with Cuba to refuse the ship dockage. The St. Louis sailed on to Miami, but President Roosevelt denied debarkation in the states. Hitler used the rejections to make his case: “See, no one in the world wants them. Let us eliminate the problem.”
The Nazis ordered the St. Louis back to Germany.
THE HERO OF THE STORY
Gustav Schroder, captain of the ship, was not a Nazi. In fact, he put the Nazi official on board in the brig and removed Hitler’s picture from the salon. He headed the ship back as ordered, but he promised the passengers they would not be returned to Germany. He delayed while Jewish organizations negotiated with potential host countries. He threatened to shipwreck the St. Louis off the coast of England where passengers could be rescued and taken in.
In the end, Belgium, Holland, France, and England agreed to accept the refugees. Passengers disembarked in Antwerp and from there travelled to the host country of their choice.
The empty ship returned to Germany.
Back home, Schroder was stripped of his commission. To Jews around the world, he was a hero. Survivors of the St. Louis collected enough money to support him the rest of his life. In 1993, his name was enshrined on Israel’s Yad Va’Shem Holocaust Museum “Wall of Righteousness.”
ESCAPE TO ENGLAND
In 1939, on board the St. Louis, my parents faced a difficult choice. My father’s sister in Belgium urged us to join her there. But anticipating Hitler’s ambition, he instead chose England. (My father’s intuition served us well. His sister was among the more than five million Jews killed in the Holocaust—as were 280 of the passengers of the St. Louis who chose countries later invaded by the Nazis.)
We immigrated to England and were in London through the Battle of Britain. After the war, we moved to the United States and settled in Queens. I spent summers with an aunt in Belmar. And there I met my husband, a Jersey City native who had moved to Belmar.
TELLING THE STORY
Twenty years ago, I gave myself an assignment: to tell the story of the St. Louis. It took time for me to appreciate its significance and I am determined to share its lesson. I speak wherever I can—to students, seniors, anyone willing to listen. My message is simple: Don’t be a bystander. Stand up against hate and bigotry, even when the world around you will not.
Eva Wiener
Eva Wiener lived with her family in Wanamassa from 1966, before moving to Neptune in 2002. She and her husband owned and operated Howard Lynn Shoes in Asbury Park and later Ocean Township. Here she shares the remarkable story of her family’s flight from Nazi Germany.