Paris 22nd May 2013

Honestly, the immensity of today can not be overstated. If I were to add all of the information I have found prior to today (roughly two to two and a half years of work online) it would still pale in comparison to 22nd May, 2013 in Paris. I have found the missing piece. I understand now. My God. Honestly. I have never felt like I do right now.

Opa's memoirs in English were written far after the fact and, despite some few "holes" of informations, are remarkably detailed. I am more and more impressed with his ability to remember specific addresses in each city as well as the names of neighbors, etc. My main work has been derived from these English memoirs, but there is also a fragment of what appears to be a contemporary account of the incident written by Opa shortly after he arrived in Switzerland. This short piece is written in German.

For the most part these stories corroborate, but on one key issue they diverged: his English report led me to assume he had been interned at Drancy, a camp just north of Paris, based on the fact that his mother was eventually deported from there to Auschwitz. But the German account states that he was actually Pithiviers, another camps, and implies that he was separated from his mother there. To further confuse matters, records for him do not exist at either Pithiviers or Drancy, though they do at both for his mother (she was sent from Pithiviers to Drancy and then to Auschwitz). This led me to question my preexisting notion: perhaps Opa was never at either camp, and they were separated somewhere else.

His mother's information cards were regrettably vague. No hints as to her location prior to Pithiviers were offered. But Opa's memoirs, once again incredibly detailed, mentioned the names of various extended family members with whom he and his mother were traveling when they were arrested. Among this number was one Rosa Brykman, his cousin, the 16 year old daughter of his mother's older sister. In his English memoir Opa noted that when he left his mother he also left Rosa. It occurred to me that Rosa very likely followed the same trail as Opa's mother and may shed light on the mystery location where they were all imprisoned together.

And that was it. Rosa was the key. She was kept with Opa's mother until their similar murders at Auschwitz. But where Chana Najman's cards were bereft of information regarding their detention prior to Pithiviers, Rosa Brykman's cards had a single line: "Prison de Chalons sur Saone."

And there it was. Chalons sur Saone is a city south east of Paris very near the demarcation line that separated the German-occupied portion of France from Vichy ("Free") France, and it was here that Opa, his mother, Rosa Brykman, and three distant relations (one of whome, Paulette Weinbush, he escaped with) were all imprisoned together. This is my missing piece. It was not a concentration camp, not even a transit camp like Drancy, but more of a haphazard detention center erected as a staging point. It was this piecemeal nature of the prison at Chalons sur Saone that allowed the French Gendarme the opportunity to help Opa and Paulette escape. Chalons sur Saone is the last place Opa saw his mother.

Needless to say, I am going to Chalons sur Saone. It is an hour's ride from Lyon, so I will go on 31st May.

Almost as an after thought (relatively speaking) I found information on twelve (!!!) relatives: Pesacc Najman, my Opa's uncle, his wife and their four children, and Cyrla Brykman nee Szmckier, Opa's mother's older sister, her husband and their four children, including the key Rosa. This trove of information itself is priceless. I owe an inordinate deal to the archives of the Memorial de la Shoah in Paris.

This evening I met Ashley and her boyfriend Jordan for coffee at an excellent cafe near Notre Dame. It was very nice to see her and meet Jordan for the first time. I hope to see her again stateside sometime soon!

Tomorrow I intend to visit Drancy.

Honestly I cannot begin to express the excitement that today has kindled in me. I am absolutely elated. There is nothing else to say.

I have no more words.