The Lasting Impact of Memories

Anita Weisbord

“There’s another thing you said, how things stay with you.  The day we left, and I left, my father was already gone, in Hungary.  My mother and my sister were at the train station.  For four agonizing hours, the windows had to be closed, the train stood in the station.  I stood by the window to look at my mother, I was praying the train should leave already, but I couldn’t go away from that window.  Because I was afraid, if I would, if I lose her, I’ll lose her forever.  And almost to this day I couldn’t stand anybody seeing me off.  Taking me to a railway station, to a plane, I always say, ‘Goodbye, don’t turn around.’  And every time when I was in England, my brother and my sister take me to the station, to the airport, they wanted to [see me off].  I [said], ‘Stay there, don’t go in with me,’ I get out of the car, and I run in… I just couldn’t stand, I had always that vision, after over sixty years.  It’s still with me.  Seeing her standing there.”  (emphasis added)

Eva Wollenberger

“I don’t remember thinking!  I mean, I remember, and the filth, and the lice, and the—and you know, when there was nobody who had died which, then I—we didn’t have to do it.  But, and I don’t even remember who the other kid was, whether it was a girl or a boy, I have no idea, it was probably a girl.  I remember how we slept, on triple-decker bunks.  And I didn’t—two people to a bunk, head to foot.  And the bed bugs, falling at night into your face.  And I’ve never never never forgotten this, when you crush them they smell of almond, bitter almond.  And, anything that crawls, to this day, sends me over the [edge].”  (emphasis added)