Gertrude (nee Wexner) Guttmann Weissbluth was born July 27, 1900 in Beuthen, O/S. Beuthen is a city in Upper Silesia, in southern Poland located in the Silesian Voivodeship of Poland, the city is 7 km northeast of Katowice, the regional capital. She died in Cleveland, Ohio on January 12 1994 where she had lived with her second husband, Eugene Weissbluth until his death on February 5, 1989.
Gertrude or “Trudy” as she was known by many, married her first husband, Fritz Guttmann in _________________on July 27, 1920. They had two children, Max Ruben Guttmann and Vera Guttmann. Fritz and his son Max were away together when World War II broke out. They were initially trapped in Russia on the islands of the Gulag Archipelago and separated from Trudy and Vera. They were forced to live in Siberia for period of time. Max became Sargent Major in the Polish Armed Forces organized in 1943 in the Soviet Union. Fritz died in Russia of pneumonia and Trudy’s story is set forth below in her hand. A copy of Fritz’s death certificate and English translation is set forth below.
Trudy survived the Sosnowitz Ghetto and Peterswaldau labor camp during the Holocaust. After the war, Trudy was a resident of Weilheim Displaced Persons Camp. Vera was also a resident of Weilheim Displaced Persons Camp from October 1945 until February 22, 1947. She emigrated to the United States at her Mother’s insistence (while pretending to be an orphan), while her mother stayed in Feldafing, Germany. Vera worked as a housekeeper. Vera was never happy in the United States and ultimately returned to Germany as a civilian employee of the U.S. Army where she worked as a librarian. Vera felt abandoned by her mother and they never really reconciled. She died in about 19___ while living in Munich or in Hoesbach, Germany. Trudy emigrated to the Unites States in 1948 where she lived initially with a relative who was a professor at Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati, Ohio. Trust worked for many years at Weldon Tool Company and the as a secretary for the German Department at Case Western Reserve University.
After the end of World War II, Max fell in love with a Christian woman, Nina ________ and although they desired to emigrate to the United States, they were initially trapped in Germany due to a delay in implementing their plans. As a result, they lived in Poland for a period of time and then Israel before being able to move to America. Max became a cost accountant and lived in Cleveland, Ohio. He and his wife, Nina, had one child, a son, George Goran.
George attended college at Indiana University where he met the woman who would become his wife, Deborah. Deborah worked as a clinical psychologist. After 16 years of marriage, they had a son, Andre, and two years later, a daughter, Aviva.
Trudy wrote the following biography dated June 5, 1983, entitled “Destiny and the Winds of War“.
1900- 1914: Introduction and Childhood.
Was it real or just a nightmare? I asked myself in amazement how it happened and how I managed to come out of it. I looked at a picture and the world of yesterday came alive. This picture shows our family at a dinner party in honor of our grandparents, Adolph and Pauline Becker, 74 and 72 years old, at the occasion of their golden anniversary. Eighty members of the family, relatives and friends, got together in Beuthen, Upper Silesia, Germany, in Hotel Kaiserhof to celebrate the event. It was in 1918, during the first World war, a time when only skeptics dared to doubt a German victory. Both grandparents came from big families. They had settled down in the rapidly developing coal mining district of Upper Silesia. They used to meet on birthdays and holidays, happy and sad occasions. In emergencies they helped each other. Where are they now?
The grandparents died in 1930 and 1937 in the apartment where they had lived for decades, surrounded by their children. They were in their nineties and could look back on an active and successful life. Their five girls were all married in Beuthen or adjacent towns, two of the sons became business partners, two were lawyers, their offices in their grandparents’ apartment building. Where are they now? Only the youngest son and his family emigrated to New Zealand. Most of the grandchildren settled in Israel, Argentina, England and the U.S.A. I am the oldest survivor, gratefully remembering the feeling of closeness which tied us together. When I was left alone it gave me strength to rebuild my life. I am in touch with my cousins and their children.
We grew up with high expectations: Our parents used to tell us two girls how daily lifeworld be eased by new inventions, how greatly the technical progress would change our habits and it was true. A telephone was installed, electricity used for lighting and cooking, trains and cars replaced horses and buggies. Things were made for a lifetime: they did not change so rapidly as they do today. Gold and silver coins were in circulation. There was stability which encouraged one to save and confidence in the future.
I had confidence in my parents: Dad was skillful, and he had chest of tools to fix everything. In addition, twenty volumes of an encyclopedia were a source of wisdom to answer every question. Mom was an accomplished housewife like Grandma. The blue lined linen closet with hand stitched monogramed linen, tied with blue ribbon, was her pride and joy. But she was busy in the factory as the manager of the laborers and the office, while Dad was on the road by horse and buggy ti get orders for workmen’s clothing from the administration of the mines and plants. He started as a salesman for his brother who had established a shirt factory, until he decided to try it on his won. There was a demand for overalls, but it took time and patience to organize it. Mom helped him efficiently. During the day we saw our parents only at the dinner table while a maid took care of us. In the evening was free speech for all. Dad told funny stories from his travels, and jokes. On weekends we hiked to the countryside or even took a train ride to a beautiful castle in a park where lilacs were in bloom. He liked to surprise us with unusual pets: a leapfrog (couldn’t he be an enchanted prince?), a turtle, birds, the poodle Lolli, a real beauty. We had total care of them, feeding, bathing, cleaning.
Years later, when we were school girls, we visited with Dad a steel mill. We saw the melted metal flowing down the furnace like a fiery stream. The towns in the industrial district were gray and dull, the air heavily polluted. At night the skies were illuminated with the lights of the plants and the huts-it was a fairyland. The giant of the industry never stopped. Human beings and machines worked without rest, in an atmosphere of heat and dust. The laborers washed it down with alcohol and got drunk, much to the grief o f their poor families.
My grandfather was a self-made man. He had common sense and the gift handle people whose confidence he got with his honesty and kindness. He started out as a grain dealer before he branched into other lines of business-insurance, real estate, etc. When his five daughters married, he helped their husbands establish themselves. Two of his sons became his business partners, the other two graduated from the University of Heidelberg. He liked his children to be close to him and, with the exception of two daughters, the remained all in Beuthen.
Dad was a traveling salesman for his eldest brother’s shirt company in Berlin. having gotten experience, he ventured to be independent with manufacturing workmen’s clothes which offered a big chance in a developing industry. Mom helped tremendously with training and organizing the laborers. Electric machines were installed, the office kept up tp date. The spirit of being in tone with the time dominated also in our family life. There was perfect cooperation between our parents and we girls should also be prepared to be independent by having a profession. My sisterErna had manual skills and business sense and I was supposed to go to college, at that time, quite unusual fora girl, especially since it meant for me to quit the 10-grade lyceum in Beuthen for the13-grade “oberrealgymnasium” in Kattowitz – a progressive city – to be reached by a 40-minute train ride. Its curriculum was more scientific oriented with emphasis on math, physics, chemistry, and was entitled to issue a certificate for admission tot he University. Three of my classmates decided to join me. Before this new school year started in April 1914, I had the good fortunate to accompany my dear Mom on a trip to Italy prescribed by our doctor to cure her laryngitis. Dad was tied up in business an Was a really good companion for her, resourceful and looking grown up for my yers, so that we were like sisters. Vienna was our first stop. Sightseeing and shopping by day, the operas “Rhinegold” and “Tannhauser” in the evening were wonderful. The train ride over mountains and rivers was relaxing and the view of the Adriatic Sea when we arrived in Abbazia was overwhelming. The deep blue water inspired serenity and peacefulness. After two weeks of leisure, we continued our trip to Trieste, Venice and Munich before we returned home.
During the month oof being away from school, I seemed to have outgrown my class. A new phase of my life would begin. I was now a “teenager” and was not treated so condescendingly as before. In Kattowitz we were encouraged to speak out, relations between teachers and students were more personal. Cousin Ruth was one of my classmates and soon I had more friends. With one of them, Else, I am still in touch after 70 years though she now lives in Tel Aviv, Israel as a widow, I visited her once and we write to each other.
The first months in Kattowitz were promising; interesting years were ahead of me. Unfortunately, the political situation exploded after the assassination of the Austrian Crown Prince Franz Ferdinand, and his wife in Sarajevo, Vacations away from home were cancelled for Erna and me as too tricky. When the excitement of the first weeks calmed down and Uncle Ludwig invited us to a trip with his daughters to Dresden, capital of Saxony, our parents mellowed and agreed to let u go for a few days. Boatt rips on the RiverElbe, museums with paintings and precious jewelry enthused us and made us forget surfers about the threatening danger until we were alarmed buy the news of Germany declaring the war, which took us back to reality. A hysterical outbreak of hostility was an immediate response to the message: enthusiasm for “beating our enemy” and passionate patriotism banded people together, speakers incited the masses which plugged up the streets, with singing and yelling of wild slogans.
We hastened to get seats on return trains. What a blessing to arrive home and find our parents clam and composed while other people panicked in fear of a Russian invasion. They told us that we would stay together. There was enough supply off for us to quietly wait for things to come. Soon the first news about the Russian defeat restored order among the population.
The Years 1914-1920: The War Years
Before school reopened it had to be reorganized; young teachers had been drafted and were replaced by those who had retired. The train schedule was outdated by troop transports. We commuters had to wait and wait. We were cold and Hungary most of the time. And the soldiers? What was their suffering compared to our mishaps? We knitted gloves, helmets and stockings, saved sweets for packages and wrote letters. Yes, that’s what they wanted; a contact with a feeling person! One letter reached me which I had to answer, because the photo enclosed expressed the feeling of a man who was desperate about the whole situation, isolated in his environment. My classmates knew him: He interrupted his studies to go to war, a man intelligent above the average: Fritz Guttmann, brother of one well known school girl. I wrote to him and we corresponded for a year. We drifted apart in the chaos of the war. When we met again, he hd his diploma, was in a responsible position ready to replace his father as the head of the company, and I was just beginning academic life. We felt enough, after all, to revive our old friendship and on July 27, 1920, on my 20th birthday, we were married. heat dragged on and on. Some people believed to the end of thwarting that Germany would win due to a secret weapon. The reasonable ones saw the handwriting on the wall long before, We were relived when the armistice was signed in November 1918. Graduation from school was our main concern because the finals came up in January. The written tests were difficult enough and decisive for the admission to the oral tests. In march we were all assembled to ge the final results, a solemn affair, also a fare well to our teachers and classmates to them we felt attached after many historical years. We promised to peeptogether and we did. I remember a coffee klatch with many of them when I introduced my baby boy, They were shocked when I started to exercise with his little legs and arms.
My friend, Ilsa, gave a big party for her friends: to celebrate her 19th birdie ,to celebrate her engagement to Jancu, her diploma, and her farewell from Kattowitz before she moved to Berlin. Cousin Ruth and I chose the University of Breslau for our stadium. It was a time of general confusion. The beginning of the inflation that destroyed our economy. Girls were not kindly treated by the war veterans who were afraid of the competition on the job market. Yet we were young and made the best of it. A match on the tennis court was more fun than a lecture on marketing … we took it easy and resolved to be better next semester. Did I foresee that it was the first and last step on the ladder to a glorious career? My parents asked Fritz when he proposed that they should insist on waiting another year to let me at least get a teaching diploma. ” My wife will never have to work for a living” he proudly reassured them.
The Years 1920-1933: Wedding in Beuthen, life in Kattowitz (Poland)
Our honeymoon on the Rhine – well deserved after yers offer and unrest – was shortened when a telegram called us back: riots in Kattowitz demanded Fritz’s presence. There was a permanent friction between Germans and Poles which was finally settled after Kattowitz was surrendered to Poland, but it took a long time to become final. My in-laws retired to Berlin and Fritz took over his responsibilities. Our son was born in Julkr at the time of a curfew so that they doctor did not come to our apartment when we called him. We had to wait a long night have the baby delivered. A new Polish partner joined the firm. Stephen and Jadwiga showed us the best of intentions to acquaint us with the culture of their country. They drove us to the historical city of Crakow, they attend with us shows and concerts, we enjoyed their hospitality, lavish meals surpassing everything we had tasted before. However, its business did network out satisfactorily. Eastern nations, Poles, Russians and Austrians don’t hav an aspect of “time”, a basic feature of the Western world. Their lifestyle is different, though very attractive in social affairs. After a few years, Fritz accepted a position as manager of a metal company in Berlin. We were offered a suite in a four family villa in Dahlem, a residential suburb of Berlin. There was an escalator clause which would protect us against inflation. Inflation was growing steadily; it attracted opportunists and made savings impossible. It was clear that disaster was imminent. As longs fortune smiled, we enjoyed the moment until the currency reform was introduced and billionaires became beggars. The company finally collapsed, the villa was sold, and we had to look for another chance.
It was a blessing in disguise that Fritz would be able to make use of his talent as a writer: the Kattowitzer Zeitung, a publication for the German majority in Poland, offered him a position as associated editor in its line of business and economy. We could live in Beuthen and he could commute to Kattowitz. Fritz liked his work and contributed to make it an organ of distinction and reconciliation. was appointed as a local reporter about cultural events in Beuthen, a very pleasant job. Max attended a German school and our family was completed when Vera was born in 1931. In the darkness of the following years she was a real sunbeam. Those years were a breathing spell in our lives. The German newspaper was immediately “gleichgeschaltet” (coordinated) in the spirit of the new government. Fritz was under contract and could not be fired but he was badly harassed in his work. An interview with the Gestapo did the rest. He was accused of being a foe of the new regime. He defended himself skillfully and was released, but he decided to omit further encounters by moving to Kattowitz.
The Years 1935-1939: Revolution, back to Kattowitz (Poland)
We rented a small apartment and were glad to get away from the worsening hostility. We all learned Polish and I was courageous enough to open a circulating library with German and Polish books. It was successful and I met interesting people. Fritz found a position as an accountant, Max started as apprentice in a brick factory and attended evenvingclasses in the Institue of Technology. We were struggling and hoping for the best. I often went to Beuthen to look after Mom and relatives of ours. The worst was yet to come! In 1938 the Jewish Tem0les and stores were destroyed during the infamous “crystal night”. Men were taken to labor camps. Apartments were vandalized in a blind rage. I reported to my relatives abroad what I saw and asked them to speed up the emigration to save their loved ones. In many cases they could help in spite of the difficulties. For my dear mother it was too late. The crisis came in 1939: Hitlerdemanded more expansion in the Polish corridor. War? Was it inevitable? What should we do? I had bad case of sciatica and could barely move. Was it not better to go to a pace in the countryside which was less endangered? We were discussing it carefully when Klar, our maid who had served us faithfully for many years, advised us, to our surprise, to stay home. “I will protect you. I have been a party member from the beginning.” We looked at each other speechless. Then we put our valuables together and were glad that baggage was still accepted at the station. We never saw it again. In the morning we didn’t wake up Max. Klara was weeping. Vera did not understand why we should leave. e took only things we could carry in our suitcases. Fritz had called one of his business friends in Konskie that we would come. He reserved a hotel room for us and promised to help in an emergency. “Next week we’ll be again together, either at home or with you in Konskie. Don’t worry, we’ll make it as we have done before. You’re strong and you always helped me.” . . . I felt it was “goodbye forever.” Fritz died in Asbest, Russia of pneumonia, 52 yeas old. We were married for 24 years.
The years 1939-1945: Outbreak of the Second World War, separation of family
n September 1, 1939, the German army invaded Poland. We and other guests at the hotel in Konskie were alarmed to leave as fast as possible. With our bags on the back, we took to the road and walked with the others, escaping to nowhere. Fire lightened the darkness, cattle were howling – an intolerable noise. Finally, exhausted, we stopped in a barn and fell asleep. It was quiet in the morning. The enemy had settled down without further resistance. We decided to return, looking for transportation. A cattle van took us to tramway stop from which we could proceed to Beauthen. Mom was overjoyed to haves back. She restored us poor refugees to civilization. Now we were waiting to hear from Fritz and Max. After weeks of uncertainty, we had telegram from Tarnpol, a Russian town, that they were there andwouldsend us an official permit to join them. They worked and could support us. The Germans planned to make Silesia “judenfrein” (free of Jews). They parted it into Polish and am an originally German sector. The communities (Jewish) created an administration with the center in Sosnowitz under the leadership of Moshe Merin, who became responsible for the supply offload and also gave German authorities the laborers they needed for all kinds of activities. We were deported to the Sosnowitz ghetto. Conditions were crowded. Vera and I got a maid’s room in a dentist’s apartment. There was no school for Jewish children but a young teacher formed a private circle for a bunch of kids like Vera, to teach them. If questioned as to what they were doing, they had to pretend that “it is a birthday party.” I was hired by the “Central Office ofJewish Communities” to translate their reports, written in Polish, for a review about their activities. A draftsman illustrated them with properly designed charts. It was an impressive pamphlet but the publication wassailed right away – the achievement of the organization was too high to be acknowledged. I was transferred int oa department which issued identification cards. Each man had to add the first name “Isac” to his family name; a woman. “Sara”. To omit the new name when signing was punishable. The income from this procedure went to the German treasury of course.
Russia entered into the war – no hope to be reunited with Fritz. Our situation also deteriorated. Jews were deported to annihilation camps. I had desperate letter from my in-laws and friends. Finally, Mom called me: She had to be ready to go. A gentile woman, wife of a Jew, who knew me from my library in Kattowitz, came to me in the gehetto and offered to bring her to me. It seemed so easy to do it. Nobody might havesuspecte Mom to be Jewish. She was deeply moved about the dangerous project but rejected it: she accepted her destiny. I asked a Gestapo man to see her off on therein, His answer was: “You have another member of your family? Your daughter? Then you have tasty with her or go with your Mother.”
Our situation was precarious enough. The Jews were transferred from the ghetto to the outskirts often, and the laborers from their huts into the departments of the ghetto. I knew how dangerously close we were to the railroad tracks for the final transport and I applied to the Germans for an office job. they were shorter the camp administration and assigned me to the payroll department, To get to work and back I walked one hour each way with a group of girls.
One morning I had to report to my supervisor. I knocked on his office door – no answer. I entered and saw him standing with another officer at the window pointing to the trains in the station: “Look, they are ready for the deportation of the Jews.” I slipped out, knocked again and re-entered smilingly. A few minutes later I was dismissed. Without hesitating I walked to the personnel department and applied to be transferred immediately to the transition camp in charge of the labor camps. “Why do you want to leave?” I was asked. “Because I want to take my daughter and be close her to her,” I explained. I got a slip for the transfer and left. When I came home from work and rushed Vera to put together her belongings, she washed and confused. The guard said: ” I can let you into the transition amp but it will be awfully hard together out.” The night on straw in a crowded hall was terrible, and I asked myself”. wa it necessary? The next day nobody of the working people from Schrodula showed up: there had been a ig action. Even people hiding in underground bunkers were caught: themas who had installed them hd been forced to point out the locations.
We were taken the labor camps of Annaberg, later to Karwin and Gross Masselwitz near Breslau. Men went out to work, women were in the office, the kitchen, the laundry. From the office Was transferred to potato peeling — tons and tons of them. Secretly baked int he fireplace, they were very tasty. Vera had critical day when her long golden braids were cut and her skull shaved. She fell into deep depression. Gradually she came out of it. She volunteered for hard manual labor and recovered miraculously. On April 1, 1944, we were ;boded into windowless cattle vans. for hours we were rolling along, thinking that it would be the end. The doors finally opened. fresh air awakened us form our apathy, and we went out on a road between mountains and woods. We walked refreshed and with new hope until we stopped at a beautiful castle. It was built. for an aristocratic family, not for 1000 women factory workers who missed the most necessary conveniences. Soon we were accommodated in the building of a factory with wide halls and stone floors equipped with showers and lavatories. Bronja, the Jewish camp leader, emphasized cleanliness and order with strict authority. She was a pretty girl, separated through the war from her fiancee and she let is know her frustration. We worked first in an ammunition factory and later outside for a military unit to dig ditches. Once we returned from work on a rainy day, soaking wet, anxious to warm up with a hot shower and hot food. She stopped us with a order: “Stay for roll call.” She looked at me and asked: “How are you, Frau Guttmann?” I raised myself up and said cheerfully, “Very well, thank you,” looking her straight in eyes. Behind me I heard angry voices whispering: how stupid! She should have cried and lamented. However, Vera and I were used outstaying inside and mending clothes.
During the winter months it became icy cold. Food was scarce and we heard shooting all the time. It came to an end but the hours were dragging along. Bronja suggested putting on a performance to cheer us up. Somebody should write a play to besieged. She promised an award and I won it. A bunch of Hollywood actors had heard from our “sanitarium” with a foolproof reducing diet, admission free, highly entertaining, and traveled to Peterswaldau to make reservations. The night guard confirmed the attraction of the sanitarium which had long waiting list. They would have to interview Bronja if they could be accepted. The happy ending: Bronja was urged to return with them to Hollywood to area career with her beauty and charm amd the camp should be dissolved. Everybody applauded.
The Years 1945-1948: Concentration Camp, liberation, return to Germany with Vera
In May 8, 1945, Bronja called us together: “Girls, we survived Hitler. The war is over and I have the key to the gate. The Russian army is near and we will be liberated.”
The jubilant message was greeted with laughter and tears. What next? There was chaos. The village was almost empty after the Germans were evacuated. The villas of the rich manufacturers were opended and occupied by the free prisoners without inhibitions. I had planned for a long time to ask the innkeepers of the “Green Gate” to give us a guest room. I would protect their property. The owners were a friendly couple who threw u apples when we marched by to the ammunition factory. They agreed wholeheartedly and we spent a carefree week with them, enjoying their meals. Soon I was called to City Hall to work in the office. The Nazis were replaced with competent people. The former German Mayor, an anti-Nazi, came out of hiding and organized the staff until a Polish Mayor took over. We took vacations assign as possible to search in Beuthen and Kattowitz for family members who might have returned. In Beuthen we were only strangers, in Kattowitz I found a former co-worker who registered our new address in Peterswaldau. We returned, glad that we already had a temporary place to stay, a tiny apartment with kitchen and bedrooms.
I wrote a letter to the Polish radio station with the request broadcast our new address. It worked! My cousin in Israel received the news and spread it among other members of our family. And then it happened that a young man in uniform was standing in my office and I recognized his boyish smile: it was my Max! After 6 years, reunited. He wassail in the army and could only stay a few days. His little sister was now a smart teenager. Reluctantly he told us that Fritz had died. How we missed him.
From Breslau went trains for German Jews to return back to their native country. I registered us and took a job in the Jewish community so as to not miss the departure, which was not yet definitely scheduled. It was May 15 when we left for Weilheim near Munich. It is a lovely small town in the Alps, at that time crowded with “displaced persons” from many countries who were waiting to resettle in a country of their choice. The leader of the displaced persons camp was Moshe Moritz, a Greek Jew who was fluent in several languages. He offered me a job and it was pleasant work with him. We also moved into room at a friendly old lady’s. I tried to register Vera in a school but she was not accepted without any records. There was however, a teacher with a background of Nazi party membership who gave her private lessons. Vera was enthused with her and she was delighted to find such an attentive student. How shocked I was when I heard that Fraulein Gretl, as we called her, praised Hitler’s hands as the characteristic of a noble person! In such a mood I like to go out and see people, and I went into a coffee house. Looking around I saw two chess players. One of them seemed familiar to me, and when they finished, I approached him and asked: “Aren’t you from Beuthen?” Indeed, he was my cousin Franz’s favorite teacher, with a nickname, the “gent” which said all about his elegant appearance. He was again a school teacher in Weilheim and was interested in my problem with Vera. He promised me he would speak with the principal, with the result that Vera was accepted on a trial basis. In a short time she caught with the other students and had an excellent background for the U.S.A. It was very difficult to buy writing material in store due to the shortage of paper and pencils, and we werefortunateto solve this problem when a certain Professor Eugene Weissbluth came to the office to look after his nieces. He was well known to Moshe as the “Father of the Greeks” because he helped them communicate with other inmates. When we were introduced, he invited us to visit him and to meet his son, Tommy, age 15. We did and had warm welcome. We got everything we needed. Tommy made an unforgettable impression. Handsome and well behaved, still not recovered from the cruel fate which deprived him of his mother and four siblings, he was thankful fourth friendship and interest we showed him. It led to a deep friendship which was interrupted when we got our visas and departed for the U.S.A. A year later their turn finally came and in 1950, after Eugene and I were married, we were a new family.
1945-1948. Emigration to the U.S.A., arrival in New York Harbor August 18, 1948, welcomed by Gerda and David Woodlinger…
1948-1950. Eugene arrived in New York Harbor June 8, 1949, from New York to Dora and Franz Landsberger July 1929-May 1950. Wedding and departure to Cleveland.
Epilogue
In May 1950 we started housekeeping in two furnished rooms until we managed to find an apartment. We moved several times before we found a home, just what we wanted. In the backyard is an old apple tree which is our delight in every season; in spring with its veil of white blossoms, in summer with its shadow spending leaves, in fall with its load of green and red apples, in winter shimmering silver with snow in these. The kids loved to climb it, to shake it, and to listen to the cheery birds’ songs.
They are still here: the kids are gone. They don’t forget: they write and call. They share with us the events of their lives. We like to travel but we don’t do it so often anymore. We enjoy the memory of days gone by, satisfied to be spectators now.
George Goran is the grandson of Gertrude, son of Vera and Max “Rubsy” Guttman. He married Deborah ______________, a woman from Illinois he met at Indiana University. Deborah and George had two children, Andre and Aviva.
Our Family-Our History 
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