Quo Warranto: By What Authority

By Edith Stein Zelig

In Quo Warranto One will read about provocations, threats, cruel harassments, and terrorization, the way those were brutally carried out by disguised individuals. I was hurt badly and needed help and entered the wrong door to get it. I complained to the criminals! They knew Ill recognize them, the second time they fixed it so that all doors were closed, and since then no bosom of Justice has reopened its door for me. The System which admired by the multitude for correctness, yet isnt perfect, for they believed the harrier and not me.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 20, 2006
• ISBN: 9781465328724

Edith Stein Zelig

Edith Stein Zelig Author of the published poetry book titled; Gallant Poetry now published my correspondence book, titled; Indispensable Correspondence Correlating Letters. Im Citizen of The United States of America, of European decent. Born in Romania on December 1931, I have a child and two grandchildren. Im a visual artist in painting & poetry a Holocaust survivor. Educated in several countries of the world, in NY City I took intense English language courses, attended art courses in National Academy of Design School of Art, courses of the Art Historian. Im known artist by the NCA, (National Council For The Arts) NYSA, (NY State Council For The Arts) NYAE, (NY Artist Equity). Studio since 1985, documented and introduced them with photo prints to many reputable Art Museums, Galleries, Libraries and to Government Officials. I took part in Poetry Contests, award winner by: The National Library of Poetry & International Poetry Society. In 1994 I took part in art advocacy raleigh organized by The Americans For The Arts, for The National Endowments For The Arts (NEA). I have created artwork painting & poetry throughout my life, and Im registered artist with US Copyright. Southebys Art Auctioneers appraises my artwork. Awards by, The National Library Of Poetry, and International Poetry Society. My Poetry book stored with Library Of Congress, The New York Public Library, Poets House, The New York Poetry Society Library, Smithsonian, and The Modern Museum Of Art in New York.

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Copyright © 1988, 2006 by Edith Stein Zelig.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any

form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,

or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing

from the copyright owner.

The image on the cover is painted by the author.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

SHORT AUTOBIOGRAPHY

OPTATIVE APPRECIATION

PERTINENT

ESSAYS OF MY LIFE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CIRCLE OF MELANCHOLY

ESSAYS OF MY LIFE

LITERAL

What does QUO WARRANTO mean? I been asked by the Copyright

Officer back in 1988, it means I said: By What Authority. That is by what

authority I write, the manner, the system, the power and the subject my

compositions are based on.

Essays of my life are complex writing of: Melodramatic and dramatic

poetic, artistic innovated life. Dealing with literary journals by what and

who’s authority the essays are formed to visualize my inner instrument of

legalities, without any plagiarism.

SHORT AUTOBIOGRAPHY

My artist name is Edith Stein Zelig. I’m European borne, citizen of United States of America. I’m a visual Artist Educated in several countries of the world, in NY City I took intense English language courses, attended courses in National Academy of Design School of Art, plus I took courses of The Art Historian I’m registered artist with US Copyright, I created artwork painting & poetry throughout my life.

I published four books: Poetry book, titled Gallant Poetry Correspondence book titled: Indispensable with over two hundred documented letters, I have written on behalf of my artworks and mine. A story book for children, titled: Credulous and essays of my life, titled: Quo Warranto I’m known artist by NCA, National Council For The Arts NYSA, NY State Council For The Arts, NYAE, NY Artist Equity. The documented letters testifies for that.

Since 1985 I have documented my artwork and introduced prints of my arts to several reputable Art Galleries, Museums, Libraries & Government Officials. I collected my artwork and exhibited them in my Stein Zelig Studio Art Gallery In 1994 I took part in art advocacy rally, organized by America For The NEA, that is the, National Endowments For The Arts. Therefore; Auctioneers shall appraise my artwork. Henceforth I’ll continue to create painting & poetry.

OPTATIVE APPRECIATION

Thank You God, For Sanity I Master

For Ability To Create

For Being Alert and Vise

For The Love I receive and able to give.

For the support and encouragement of my mother and my daughter and for all those friends whom helped me near and far, I thank. Now in 2000: I thank my grandchildren for the love, recognition and support to accomplish farther paintings and literary work.

I started to write my life story by hand, in 1970 Tarrytown NY, and I stopped composing it in 1974. Early 1979, I was halted by the local police for political reason, however I finished the notes and stored with US Copyright, December 1985 and 1988. from then on so I have stored my manuscripts.

I believe: Work which can be done with one finger today, tomorrow must be done with ten fingers. However life has bumps and stops which no living human on earth can eliminate them.

My point of view of the importance in History of the Universe are: Food, shelter, war and peace, and the art to keep it History of the arts is; History of mankind. And so; History of the Arts are also history of the artists.

PERTINENT

I accomplished thousands of pages of literary art work, about my past and present life among others, neatly hearten, sincerely bound with an expressive exposure.

Here I’m writing and thinking in English language, which is not my birth language, so I’m telling highly educated or lesser educated people about my in US and elsewhere. I learned six languages in my life, six way of living,

I raised one child, I had an unsuccessful marriage, loss of two newborn babies, a nervous breakdown, changing living places, falling in love, and coping with an unwanted, wound situation of harassments and rejections.

One must understand why is life so precious to a human being, and what can accusation restriction, prediction, addiction, cause to a person worthy of love.

The benediction of values my book is offering, are comparative culture of etiquette, the individual and of the multitude whom in the Church and Temple, asking forgiveness and blessing from God, for I’m humane.

I entitled each chapter in my life, the second chapter is titled as Pilots, because it is directing the epochs of my life into one an other.

The compositions of events which caused to me, directly or indirectly I synchronized by computer and laser-beamed on paper, in a fashion, style and manner as it reflects my inner domain. I don’t derive nor plagiarize, I write my own mind, and so I paint and regulate facts with precision.

There are some individuals in my life whom are deriving subjects from my composition while they in some instances alter mine, however one knows that one’s style and manner is as one’s fingerprints. Those who enters my domain are those who do not have one, I pity them, and I resent them.

I composed my book under stress and hardship, but those complications render curiosity and makes the reader understand the entirety of my life. I was borne in a cold December, 1931, kidnapped just a few days later, and almost suffocated a few months after.

Ten years later the Nazis flapped me. and it was fifteen years later, more than myself locked in a concentration camp again. One ought to understand, how dear freedom, friendship, neighborly love, tolerance and understanding is to me, or to anyone. Then one can judge my life.

Be not confused: Or so to say; don’t be confused about culmination of wars, for Domination did not occur to improve relation between Nation, nor made Religion to be Holier, and made not people be healthier. The offensive imbroglio of the genocides, has brought to open hate, and violence for the History of Mankind.

These’ after each victory or defeat exultantly implicates principle of the justice system to immunize equality and freedom, not yet the freedom of mind, and so with all the effort domination has not ceased to be. People dominate one an other for the sake of theirs virulent competition, if remains as it is? who knows what will the future tell us.

United States of America which samples all human on earth; is a safety net to what people come to be, I too came here to safety. For I too’ saw the havoc of the devil so stretching its genocides paws’ to exterminate people, to bury a religion, minority, and unwanted disenchanted poor.

And now so many years later, I been ironically singled and intimidated, so inoculated with criminal offences, to make me be lesser human. I’m a victim of such high society intent, my honesty, gentility, and nobility, has been not recognized. Eyes and ears refused to listen.

To verify situations; the Bureau of Investigation needs permission from the Government to investigate, act and proceed. But some people lie and they don’t care about insidiousness, they think that the significance in me is insignificant to the significant

Now I demonstrate the art of demonstration which is art of capabilities, without it we would have not learn from each other. Parents so have demonstrate to their children and vice versa, housewife to her guests, doctors to their patient and so on. I too, demonstrate my consciousness, my rights and ability, my honesty and legitimacy. In Quo Warranto One will read about provocations, threats, cruel harassments, and terrorization, the way those were brutally carried out by disguised individuals. I was hurt badly and needed help and entered the wrong door to get it. I complained to the criminals! They knew I’ll recognized them, the second time they fixed it so’ that all doors were closed, and since then no bosom of Justice has reopened its door for me. The System which admired by the multitude for correctness, yet isn’t perfect, for they believed the harrier and not me. I’ll never become one of those, and so I finished my manuscript, despite the many of those attempts to stop me.

I’ll shall never become incorrect, nor I’ll ever be such as them, and I’m going to continue my compositions as I planed. To those whom helped me in incognito, I thank for it with all my heart and mind: Thanks for the Government, Copyright and Journalistic Corp’ who has credits me for the achievement, and encouraged me to write and fine arts.

But those however who feel offended by my compositions in any way, for they may have nothing to do with provocation and harassments I write about, I apologize. The names, may be coincidental or fictional, for this book is not to hurt anyone, nor is a confession or bequeath.

Mother is the artist who turns art of love into life, artist is the one who places art into success.

This manuscript is not just a reading subject of literary skill, it is an essential documentation of human capabilities, since I have been in situation of defeat many times, and so I grew out of those, therefore I became an authority to point them out.

I learned it US, that each time someone hurt me in anyway, there has always come to be disastrous aftermaths somewhere on earth, one can call it; counter catastrophe. It is a a shame, for many of those may have been saved if people would have not hurt me. I said it, but nothing has been done to improve the situation however, nevertheless’ History has shown us that humans are flexible and withstood disaster of the worst kind, I write about that in the composition ranges seven hundred pages. My writing is entertaining and educational, I hope curiosity makes readers to read this coherent explicit empirical literary offer.

It is odd’ when precipitation and no clouds, there is no edifice to sprinkle water from and it does, when one tell me that I left my key in the house and no one with me to know that’s so, only I who should have known about it, when people hit me in the presence of others, but no one to testify for it.

Are this extra-celestial hypothecated good faiths or are this all a vicious cumber? To tell the fact that I’m a healthy minded good and predictable, honest law obeying Citizen, is not only responsibility of my, but also of the Government.

To bring this book to a publication, not only for my sake, but more for the future Generation. I do not lie nor I copy anyone’s work to make it my own. I do not imagine things, nor I fantasize, I write and paint out facts. I know what I know, and know what I don’t know, what concerns and what not, in the everlasting terror in my life.

For those who commit the crime, and making me believe the truth is otherwise devised, I must tell, that if I won’t be recognized as an artist of fine art and literature, the work of other’s will diminish, or remains nothing but copy reproduction as they say is replica.

I’m a significant person, it may be that also important, otherwise I would have not been pushed into the ordeal of alienation, that is a fact, for I’m being alienated at this time, as so I was told I’ll be, that was in the language school in NY City 75. Even though evidence is with standing and proven, I’m still a good human being, that was demonstrated in my childhood and it is demonstrates now.

I’m using my own mind, for I’m intelligence. I educated my child in five languages, the capability is in extend of PHD level. If I would have not been a wholesome minded human as I say I’m, I wouldn’t have be able to do that. Our accomplishments and family values are high. I love people, my love towards humanity is pure and simple not as complicated.

I’m starting my composition with an appreciation of a truly motivated recognition. Here I’m after thirty five years of composed complex work of insight. Presenting the public with culminating element of true civil justice.

I tried so hard to earn my living, and every time I come to rich for it, the thieves have removed the basis of argument Do I have the ability and the right to acquire a prosperous living? Who are the thieves? With good intention of finding those,; the reader shall know when reads among Journalistic attempts.

If my books and my painting won’t bring me the living I deserve, then’ I’ shall know the thieves’ s misgivings.

ESSAYS OF MY LIFE

OPUS ONE

CHAPTER ONE

OPULENT

A SCIENTIFIC STATEMENT

BY SCIENTIST FRANCIS BACON:

Seeds of Things are much latent virtue And yet it is no use except in their

development So are the scattered rays of light itself, until they are made

to converge.

What is Art?

A formation created by vision Such as a subject on an object, The converged inner reflection of oneself attitude to an other, as the influence of an epoch, to an era.

Victor and Victory As loving doves looking at each other Destiny of love in the eyes of living We were as flowers grown out from ashes Our child is a love child on our side

A Solitary Virtuoso

There are cloud in the sky’ looking at me I don’t know why? Why are you staring at me? Cutting through me with your laser beams, So deeming my flames of knowledge

MY LIFE IN YOUTH

It was a cold December day when you were kidnapped; I remember my mother telling me that, it was only days after your birth, she said; the News Papers were writing about it. Why was I kidnapped? because your grandfather and I owned valuable painting, which he discovered during World War One, Belona, Golden Helmet by Rembrandt and Don Guzman by Velasquez. That was the way certain art dealers forced my father to sell those paintings. So this is what has me followed into the History Am I the baby whom was taken and given back?

Above question and answers are the primary motive’s for me to write my Journalistic biography. I finished grammar school in Romania and for the rest I’m mostly self educated, pure, honest and loving human being. Born in Timisoara, raised in Arad, lived fore a short time in Oradea, bellow are the photos of the three Cities, North East on the map of Transylvania.

Temeswar központja az Ällami Operahâzzal

Image424.JPG

1) This is City Temeswar—Timisoara

Image432.JPG

Atad: Kultúrpalota

2) City Arad

Image439.JPG

Nagyrárad: Allami Színház

3) City Nagyvarad Oradea Mare

Romania borders Hungary, Russia, Yugoslavia, Bulgaria and has part of the Black Sea, City Constanza. The Capital City Of Romania is Bucaresti. Timisoara, Arad, and Oradea, as I remember, shown on the photos bellow; Arad’s Culture House, Timisoara’s Bega Bridge, and the center, way back the Theater, the rounded building is in which I lived when I was two years old. I’m constructing a layout for the explanation of my existence at that time. Timisoara is the City where I was kidnapped when I was only two weeks old.

When I was two years old, I clearly recall an incident; leaving my aunt’s home to the other side of the circle where I lived, see on the image page 24.

The people in the room were playing cards while I was sitting on the floor, all of a sodden I wanted to go home; and I did, I stood up and left the room, I walked to the gate, from there I crossed without hesitation to the house on the other side of the circle where I lived.

The ordeal in peacetime wasn’t an ordinary event, but I was too young to know where I live. To crossed the circle to the rounded house, was’ a hazardous attempt; as one can see on the photo above. I couldn’t speak yet, I was told that I started to speak months after this event. I recognized the house but I did not recognized our apartment door, nor I knew the floor, I turned around again and again, without any successes, I couldn’t climb the stairs, I looked and saw lots of doors on the corridor, and I started to cry, till a neighbor picked me up and place me in one of the rooms. Soon my mother came home with food. She was shocked to see me home for she left me with her sister.

I don’t remember anything else from this ordeal. Who may come to help me? nor my mother or my aunt remembers. It did not mattered in the later cunning of my life. In youth I never had it bad nor good. I loved everybody those years, yet nothing come easy for me, I was a worrier even though that I was surrounded by aunts, uncles and cousins, I shouldn’t have had worry at all.

My mother was good to my sister and me, she worked hard to keep us well fed, there were bad time for everybody then, but for a single woman with two kids was even harder, she worked for her father my grandfather, she helped him and he help her as much he could, he had four more kids at home and his second wife to feed. They all loved me.

My grandma from my father side cared for me too, many times while my mother was working, she was tired to take me home, so’ I was sleeping over, and I remember my grandma while putting me in bead, she used to tell me, sleep well my child, and don’t worry about the world, I didn’t listen to her, I kept worrying. My mother left her husband once and twice in my childhood because they were no good to her. and she was right

City Arad where my grandfather was living, used to be industrial, later businesses were opened and one could buy things as they pleased. My grandfather used to be an Art Collector & Art Dealer, he was well known and well to do man, till the day Nazi Era has overpowered him.

His twelve children, eight with his first wife who passed away, and four with the second. The kids were good to each other, and grand kids didn’t even know we had an other grandma, life were parable till this time.

The future, brought existent protocol of wrath, my grandfather and his children remembered the first world war and Russian revolution after that we all remember the second war Hitler’s Era We were badly effected by it and the outcome is obvious.

I grow to hear more than anyone thought I did, no wander that I was worried all the time about one will get punished for no reason, or get sick. For an other. No one had any trouble with me, I got sick a couple time as other children have, but I was healthy and wholesome child, though war didn’t bring peace into my life, I coped with it, as if it would have been a task.

In 1941 a new couple moved in the house, they had a daughter, I was happy to see the girl in my age with whom I though, I could play. One day I asked her mother if the girl can come an play with me, she asked my name, I asked the girl’s name, she said my daughter’s name is Madeleine, oh’ I said that’s my mother’s name also, what is your mother’s name? I said Magda, oh’ she said’ that is a Jewish name, Madeleine is German name’.

The burden of name calling, was much to much to bear, so I had to discover why are we called bad names, I still don’t know why Anti-Semitism exist. Story tellers and historians have culminated the embroil of racial accumulation embodying into sickness of hatred over the population of the glob, for which leaders are to blamed. Nevertheless the extermination of not wanted population has killed the innocence of the world. It’s consequences will be dear for the coming young generation, for the past should be not forgotten in order to be able to improvise the quality of the future, Look ahead to cure’ this embroilment, future generation needs harmony tolerance, love and understanding to balanced the past time with the present

Children are instrument of War.

I used to play with Madeleine a couple times before they moved away, we used to play with clay, I remember she let me have the dry clay, taking the soft part for herself, so I almost cried yet I didn’t give up, I molded it as I could into miniature kitchen pots.

We also picked chamomile flowers from the river side, while she divided the area in two taking the opulent side and giving me the scares one, there were hardly any flowers on my side, but I didn’t care because I didn’t like chamomile tee anyway. Madeleine was so, domineering and I was humble, no wander she get away with everything.

One day, her mother asked me to go with Madeleine to my school, now occupied by Nazi German army, to welcome those with flowers, Madeleine’s teacher asked her to do so, she gave Madeleine a big beautiful bucket, and me a small old ugly one.

Madeleine and I walked hand in hand, when on the way she teaching me how to great the German, we got there and we were stopped at the gate, she said Hi’ Hitler, I said nothing, she spoke in German with them, so they let us in, she spoke and gave the flowers to an officer I didn’t, gave no flowers to them, I wasn’t aloud to attend school, I was angry and feared, I hold my flowers strongly, when we left she told me to go home in a different direction, we can’t walk together no more.

I was walking with the flowers in my hand, for a while, but a block from the school, I dropped the flowers, I said I didn’t welcome them, they took my school away from me. A Romanian officer past by with a woman, they saw what I did and smiled at me, saying nothing.

Madeleine did not play with me no more, she said’ I won’t play with you no more, it is because you murdered Christ, that was because I’m Jewish, but I didn’t know it then. Shortly after this incident, they moved away.

I past among and parallel with the furor of war in my old Country and elsewhere. It was difficult to grow up in Nazi era, Jewish people were not aloud to hold a job, they could not attend schools or go to the Temple. Yet Romania was easier on the Jewish people than the other Countries in Europe.

Rumors were confirm true, Hitler’s Era’ existed under the rage of bombing, dirt, hunger, and sickness, hate and cruelty. That what it made the value of live became a precious gift. I was a child then, a child who knew the importance to be wanted, and Jews were not wanted so I suffered.

This situation coincides this era of obscure vicious discrimination, thank God we have loved each other and caring for each other. So it was, my mother, my sister and me, became the center of the disarray of the forsaken situation, we were the competitions, we were the reason for curiosity.

One day my mother came home sick and crying, we didn’t know at the time that she was raped and bitten, large sum of value was stolen from her, a small fortune, which was hers and her fathers, I didn’t know what to do, I said don’t cry, I help you earn the money back, which was impossible for a child much less for I Jewish one.

The time has past my mother got better and she got into and other business, she become a dance teacher, cosmetologist, and tobacco dealer. My sister was many time absent from home, I was with her and I helped her with everything.

Between the Nazi era and Communism, life was fearful, we always feared from some body may tell on us. Men were deported, kids, the old and women were remaining in the ghettos, wearing the yellow star when we left our home.

We were many people in two rooms, to study in those circumstances were difficult, I was sleeping on wooden chairs, doing my homework by sitting on a bead in the kitchen, where an old man who deported from it’s Town use to sleep.

I worked on mathematics but my calculation did not come out right, each time I proof written it, the sum had a different total.

The sum must be correct, why isn’t? I’m all with my work, I erased it as long as the paper has ruptured, and then’ I question God. If He can do everything why dose He not make me able to prove it right I didn’t know what to think, I was only ten year old I couldn’t figure it out why can’t I do my home work. At this time kids as me, were about to be put in gas chambers in Poland and Germany, and God couldn’t help them either.

I had no notion, of such things. I did not know that people kill innocent people, I knew how to prepare dough for bred, washed my own clothing, clean the house from top to bottom, scrub the floor wax and shine, clean the stow build a fire, cut wood, pump up water, to sing and dance, in my mind I knew everything, I how it is possible that my homework calculation isn’t good?

An old man, his daughter and her husband come to love with us, they were evacuated she was a German language teacher, the man was News Paper man, Editor and Press worker. The Press work, he said’ is hazardous, the tint is poison, the noise is tremendous, it is not work for girls, since I wanted to be a newspaper writer, he said, those are written by men and read by men, you should not be one of those.

I learn from his wife the Gothic German language, I knew how to read German and write by the end of the war, I understood that language by then, fairly well.

The father of my German teacher died, and my aunt made me hold the corps foot, she said I won’t be afraid in the future, she had no children of her own.

I called my German teacher Tanta, she was important to me, and so was her father, I loved her because she always gave me good mark of achievement. I hardly made mistakes, I memorized poems in German and I was found of her studies, even though it had been known by then that Germans do not like Jews, yet we learn their language.

America, England and Germany were in good terms in the past, now they are not, now they are enemies. We listened to BBC from London and voice of America, I shouldn’t listen to the radio because it was dangerous, but I did when I was alone at home.

I recognized names and sounds, Prime Minister Churchill had a very distinguish voice, of Eric Sevarie, US Radio. I could always tell which station, is which, yet I was very young.

There were many books written after the war about the war, I’m late to write about them, however there is something about I want to write a few lines.

Romanian leaders did not let Nazi German leaders remove the Jews from Romania, they were needed in that Country, they were learned men and women, leaders in economics art music, they were important to development of this civilization so Jews stayed and worked forced labor.

We were among the lucky, our Town were not hit by Fascism for long, when German Army come through the Town, schools, shops, houses were confiscated, between this changes, people were arrested released arrested and released. Men taken to Braila, Chernovitz Botosani, Moldova, in Bucaresti Jews were swiped by the Ironguards a form of Fascist police, belongings were confiscated, books and composition were restricted. Jews were aloud to sell things if any left to them to sell. But it was heaven at the time to be in Romania and not in Germany, Poland, Hungary etc.

We kept alive as long as we could combat hunger. Since many of our friends were working in factories they had money to buy food, and helped us as much as they could. This is how more people remain alive in Romania than in the other Countries in Europe.

And so the war went on, the Nazi Germans were in needs, and they took as much they could, food, people for hard labor, scientists, equipments, salt, petroleum, medicine, horses. they used them up, they killed them, they also killed all those who are not of their Arian. It is known I’m not writing new things about it.

Industry was in boom in Romania and elsewhere, lamination was in use, invented in Romania, Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, Hungary. Germans have come to here, the bordering home of the metallurgist, they knew how to use it. They succeeded to equip a military as never before in History, and as everybody know, they killed people with it as never before in the history of the human race.

They had the most sophisticated radios seismographs, and listening devices. US and England was not far behind equipping it’s military just and just as efficiently.

The life in Romania Transylvania, bordering Hungary where between the extort. Peace did not come soon enough, and when people started to migrate we staid behind, we had no money to move, that was good for we staid alive. Incidents of death here, not so drastic, people lived in harmony more or less. I’m not writing history, but history writes me. In order to one understand my view point reader must know in what I been through, in all normal, and odd circumstances. I started my schooling in 1936, I was much younger than any other kid in my class, I didn’t do well, the excited encouragement in me, has been my impediment for learning and performing, which caused me to fear of expressing myself. All my teachers were good to me, I can recall two of female teacher’s name, Ms Seren and Ms Margaret, I recall two male teachers, on elderly who each time when he has started a class he addressed us as My dear children a young teacher who has taught us Hebrew, I do not recall the others, they all spoke Hungarian to us, but one day they were not allowed to do so, those who could not teach in Romanian language had to leave. My two aunt lived in the country Saversine, their names Metzners, and Gross, aunt and uncle Francisca Metzner and three kids, cousins were they were Christians from theirs father side, free of fear. My uncle Metzner was a chemist, but he had Jewish wife so he and was not aloud to practice it, so he became household dealer, he sold beads necklace and other jewelry to gypsies, he used to take me with him, and I loved the mountain interlocking Carpaths, selling goods to the Peasants and Gypsy was a joy, the peasants were clean and good, they gave us fresh food, and clean beads.

They loved us, so I liked to go with my uncle, I enjoyed the scenery which was breathtakingly beautiful, most meadows and valley’s were full with flowers, looking down from the top of the mountain into a sea of daisies was a pleasure.

It may have been on first occasion I traveled with my uncle and cousin George was with us, I recall a beautiful Peasant Town as one of Van Gogh’s painting, this place the bread of the bull was theirs specialty and their livelihood, this looked as a paradise to me.

One morning when I woke up there was no on in the room, I go out to find my cousin who was standing and looking at people as they chasing a bull in between iron bars, there the cow was localized and strapped, I not yet six years of age, naturally I did not know what is going on, and I staid to see and watch the happenings.

What did happen, I newer forget. The bull was chased on the top of the caw and the caw collapsed for a second, then she raised the bull with her rear body, there were shouting, and then a complete quiet, (the bull was impregnating the caw) I got so scared that a stomach cramps overpowered me, I just had to go, by the time I come back everybody gone but George, I asked him, do you know what did the bull do to the caw? he answered I don’t know did the caw die I insisted, I don’t know was the answer, George a year younger as I’m and he was also scared but what did we know.

My Uncle needed to make enough money to sustain his three children himself and his wife. Alexander the oldest, then George, and Tom. An other aunt who lived in the Country, her family name Gross, two children Naomi and Bella a boy, intelligent, he always knew everything, he told me he admires Chamberlain, and Chaplin, he loved to go to school and wanted to be an architect. We cousins, liked school and other activities such as hiking mountains for fun, and look for, (we called it) Saint Joan bread, which we never find, but berries and mushrooms we had plentiful, we played at the railroad, and sold sandwiches, at the station, which was dangerous thing to do those days. My sister and I returned to the City for the school year.

Soon deportation took place and our building became a ghetto, one and two room apartment, the entire family live in the neighborhood except my Grandfather.

In an L shape building, my cousins Gross, Metzner, mother’s sisters Borish no children yet, and a brother among others have come to the ghetto. When Romanians had give territory over to Hungarians, two brothers, each with two children & wives left to Hungary. they were sent to death camps in Germany, one died, the other lived, wives and children stayed alive. This is how life went on, in our Town.

My mother also had lots of cousins, to one I was always asked to exchange book for his wife from the library, I exchanged a lots of books for her.

Meanwhile I was reading from those books. Their house was ultra modern, only four tenants, the door was monitored from inside the residence, so one going in could not come out without someone open the door. His name was Elemer they were a couple brothers and sisters, and they were rich, occupation leather import and export, they worked with Germany France England and USA, until the war broke out. On one occasion I went to see if they want to return books to library, I went in the house with a neighbor when I ring the door bell Elemer opened it, and I said hello, do you have books to return to the library? he got angry for some reason I did not know, and turned me around and pushed me out, I got a pain in my heart I never forget. I could not go out from the house, and I rang the bell at the neighbor instead asking him to open the door. Some time after this incident I got a small leather pocketbook from my oldest aunt she told me Elemer’s sister gave it to her to give it to me, since her father was leather good dealer it came handy. The pocketbook was made in Germany Hitler’s youths style, it was in burgundy color, nowadays very much in style, I loved it, but did not used it many times because when I used it the kids used to call me Hitler’s Youth I did not liked that and took the leather bag apart, which was machine made, the burgundy color was my favorite, I kept it for good until it got lost. By then I was over twelve years old.

I didn’t grow in Timisoara where I was born, I grew up in Arad which was industrial place, we lived between to factories and the river Mures, One factory was textile & an other sugar, but in the war was transformed for other use.

Nazi shoppers come from other Countries to take the goods away for themselves, so it was that Madeleine’s father, firs they been in Timisoara, after then they came over to Arad. He was not a liked man, he never said hallow to anyone, nor he gave chance to others to great him, he was limping on one leg, once I asked why? I was told that, he was walking on the train tracks and he hurt his foot. Is he Jewish I ask?

Don’t you see his nose is round and small? People used to say that Jews have long noses.

I said to my cousin everything is taken away from us by the Nazis and taken it abroad.

Well’ they are going to take as too, my cousin said.

Cuza Voda our street was long, coming from the center of the Town to the river Mures, crossed by an other Street I don’t recall the name, ending at the textile factory, turning in is an other long Street from the river to the center of the Town. the other side was the sugar factory also on the river.

Our window faced Cuza Voda, the entrance to the house was in the next Street close to the textile factory. My aunt’s home faced the Street where the factory gate was. Any spoken subject could bee heard from the factory gate. Many time we heard Nazis marching under our window, it was very annoying, one didn’t know what is coming next.

The next it come, and now we heard the Nazi Hungarians raided the town,. we heard the banging on the iron gats, demanding it to be opened, Open the Gates! they shouted, we are the Hungarian Home Defenders, when they entered they have killed and burned people, later, ashes run down to the river.

A rich Christian family lived across the street, they were good people, my cousins were his friends, towards the end of the war we were called over to see his TV no one should know, are you sure we can go? I asked, knowing that sometimes the friend was forbidden to see us, so I hesitated, but my cousin continued saying, he has something new to show as, his parent’s are not home, now hurry, and I did, the boy took us to his room where he showed us his TV and a new game called Monopoly, it is like banking he said, it was invented recently in USA. I had no idea from where does he know all this, I did not ask, I let myself believe it is a secret.

I knew those new invention are not free to tell, so I didn’t talked about it. After this visit I haven’t see him again. If he moved, or he was recruited, and send to the front, I’ll never know.

Since I was a good and consciences little girl, trying to do every thing right, thinking of those who suffered, when bombs were falling, and food was scarce, my mind was occupied about those, did they escaped the bombing? or do they have what to eat?

I was very young when I started to red, some thought that I most likely don’t understand what I red, but I did and it was very useful to me later in life.

I read; Stefan Zweig, France Kafka, Dumas, Verne, Anatole France, Victor Hugo, Puskin, Pasternak. There was not a book on site I did not read all or from it.

I had to work, however I was used to workload’s anyway ever since I was six years old, the year’ I started my schooling, I already washed my own clouding, dressed myself, washed and feed myself, and reading books such as; Crime and Punishment, Ana Karenina, Fight With The Demon, books of Somerset Maugham, Shalom Alechem, and Upton Sinclair. Later in years working in a doll factory, by a seamstress, with leather goods, this time I got a good pay, but I do not recall what did I do with it.

Ultimately working on road construction for the Government, that was the place where my aunt Metzner used to lived, the pay if any went to the Jewish Federation. The past atrocious regime have assuaged and new come instead. The free world knocking on the corner but did not turn in, still’ our life in Romania were not so atrocious, Nazi Regime has gone and Communist Regimes has come.

The Russian army now building temporary bridges, the original were blown up. Russian soldiers were nice to the children, they came with carriages which were filled with watermelon and other fruits and vegetables.

On night we had to go to the bunker because yet the Germans were bombarding the City, one of the soldier came in, lit a match and looked for my sister, handing her a watermelon, it was good they been there. Henceforth if they would have not come, we would have been falling into the same faith as those in Germany Hungary, Poland, Austria, they would have killed us by the same authority?

If US would not enter the war, the Fascist Regime would have make dust from us, and our remains would have been settled in the soil as it did of those