In the orphanage there was no food and it the conditions were abusive.  My mother died when I was three. I know nothing about my parents.  I don't even have a picture. I lived in foster homes before the orphanage. I saw terrible things – hanging and torture, in Kielce. This lasted about two years. The foster family was Polish but worked for the Germans. I was about 12  at that time. I ran away because I was afraid all the time. My mother’s family didn’t want me to inherit their land and they put me under a train to kill me.  A boy saved me and I went to the orphanage where there was no food and then I ran away. 

The Germans took me off the street  because I looked Jewish, and they took me to Aalen in Germany.  I went to work in an ammunition factory where I scraped off rust.  I was mistreated and beaten by the Germans for almost two years, {not long enough to get Social Security from the Germans) . Eventually I came to New York and lived in five foster homes until I married. 

 

I worked in the ammunition factory 12 hours every day, then I went back to the camp. We waited in line for food, soup, I was hungry many times. When the American soldiers came, they gave me peanut butter. I  never had milk or eggs.

 

I was beaten many times and I feel guilty that I wished them dead. There were bombings and he was killed, I felt bad.  I ran and hid in the woods.  Aalen was the only factory I worked in. We made bullets, the steel was rusty and I had to clean off the rust. They told me what to do and if I did it wrong, they would beat me.

 

What kept me going?  I wanted to meet my mother, survive, and some day, find out who she is. When the Americans came, I was being beaten with a frying pan in the barrack.  A man named Stash saw this in the window and saved me.  He took me to the American women for protection.

 

At liberation the Americans gave us candy and ice cream.  I stayed with the women American soldiers until I came to the US.  Stash, who was Polish, saved me and got me to the ladies, then to the US.  I never was connected to him afterwards. I am grateful to God for everything.

 

When I went to a foster family in US, I met a man who worked for this foster family.  He was a farmer, he didn’t like that I wore makeup and fancy hair but he got used to it.

 

I first went to a convent in New Jersey in July 1945.  But we were not allowed to learn anything. 

Try to be as strong. Be proud to be an American.