Stella's Secret: A True Story of Holocaust Survival

By Jerry L. Jennings

Stella’s Secret is the inspirational memoir of how a young girl and her mother survive the most hellish conditions of the ghetto and the deathcamps at Auschwitz, Birkenau and Bergen Belsen. But it is Stella’s voice, the amazing way that she tells her story, that makes this Holocaust story so unique, powerful and endearing. The reader listens to Stella’s stunning simplicity of expression, her use of Polish and Yiddish phrases, her humor, her all-so-frequent grammatical errors – and is charmed. It is a story that only Stella Yollin can tell, and it can only be told in Stella’s sweet and incomparable way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 14, 2005
• ISBN: 9781465333957

Jerry L. Jennings

Dr. Jerry Jennings is a clinical psychologist and award-winning screenwriter and writer. He has published nearly 50 journal articles, book chapters and books. His latest book, THE MINDFULNESS TOOLKIT FOR COUNSELORS, TEACHERS, COACHES & CLINICIANS OF YOUTH (Neari Press), brings the power of mindfulness to adolescents. Dedicated to preserving and honoring the personal stories of Holocaust survivors, Dr. Jennings has published three Holocaust memoirs on behalf of survivors: STELLA'S SECRET, DARKNESS HIDES THE FLOWERS, and I CHOOSE LIFE. The latter book is featured in an award-winning website video titled, "Yes, That's My Father" by the US Holocaust Memorial Museum for its World Memory Project" in partnership with Ancestry.com. Dr. Jennings has won or placed in numerous screenplay competitions for several different scripts, including comedies, dramas, thrillers and more. He has optioned three screenplays.

Book preview

Stella’s Secret

A True Story of Holocaust Survival

25833-JENN-layout.pdf

BY JERRY L. JENNINGS

AS TOLD BY STELLA S. YOLLIN

Copyright © 2005 by Jerry L. Jennings, Ph.D.

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.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

25833

Contents

Introduction

I will tell you now my story . . .

Chapter One

The Corridor

Chapter Two

The Big City of Lódz

Chapter Three

Prisoners of Lódz Ghetto

Chapter Four

The Lost Years

Chapter Five

The Last Train From Lódz Ghetto

Chapter Six

Auschwitz

Chapter Seven

Birkenau

Chapter Eight

The Tent Camp at Bergen Belsen

Chapter Nine

The Salt Mines of Hambiren

Chapter Ten

The Gypsy Woman

Chapter Eleven

Bergen Belsen Displaced Persons Camp

Chapter Twelve

The Promised Land

Epilogue

Author’s Comments

References

missing image file

Stella and her mother at Bergen Belsen DP Camp

on September 16th, 1946.

Stella Yollin dedicates this book to the memory of

her beloved parents, Samuel and Tola Lewinski

and to

Dr. Philip Rosen, whose great kindness and support made it possible for Stella to begin telling her story.

CONTACT INFORMATION:

[e-mail]

Introduction

I will tell you now my story . . .

This is something so unbelievable. How I survived the Holocaust. How I was taken on the last train from the prison-ghetto of Lódz. How I find my mother in Auschwitz-Birkenau. How I was in the same barrack with Anne Frank at Bergen Belsen. How a Gypsy woman saved my mother’s life. And how I keep all this secret for forty years.

You see, I never wanted to talk about the Holocaust. I was always quiet. To be honest, I was ashamed that I was in a concentration camp. And I didn’t want to talk about it anyway because it made my mom cry. She cried a lot for many years, thinking of my father, my two brothers, her sisters and their children, her brothers and their children, and the whole family. Only in 1985, when the skinheads and neo-Nazis started saying the Holocaust never happened, it is a Jewish fantasy, whatever nonsense they were saying, then I realized in my heart I must start talking.

I have been ever since talking. I must. But it is not ever easy. Whenever I go to talk to schools and colleges, I always bring the photograph of my father to give me the emotional strength to talk about it. I look at my father and always feel that he smiles at me from up in heaven. Then I can speak about it.

In Poland, in 1939, there were forty-three people on my mother’s and father’s side of the family. When the war ended, only two people survived – my mother and myself. None of the rest of the family survived. It is for them, I will tell you now my story . . .

Chapter One

The Corridor

My name is Stella. When I was growing up in Poland, they called me Stellunia. It means little Stella. I was named after my mother’s oldest sister. In Yiddish, her name was Scheindle. It means pretty. I never wanted to be called Scheindle. So, I’m Stella, similar, but not Scheindle.

I was born in Tczew, Poland in 1931. I usually say I was born in the big Polish city of Lódz because nobody never heard of Tczew or knows how to pronounce it.¹ Tczew was a small Polish city a few miles from Danzig. It was near the Baltic Sea right by the border with Prussia, a part of Germany. This was the section of Poland that the Germans called the Corridor. Because from Germany to go to Prussia, you had to go through this place. Hitler and the Germans wanted the Corridor to be part of Germany. There was a lot of talking and people knew trouble was coming. That is why my family moved back to Lódz in 1936.

My father was born in Lódz. His name was Samuel Levinski. In Polish, "Samek Lewinski." He came from a poor working class family. But he had a wonderful education. How could he get such an education? When Grandma was pregnant with him, they already had two boys and were very poor. But what happened was they knew a dentist and his wife, who had no children. So the dentist asked if they would give my father for adoption. But in those days, people didn’t give children away for adoption. So after my father was born, my grandmother would often bring the baby to show to the dentist and his wife. This they loved because my father was a very sweet, intelligent boy. The dentist and his wife fell in love with him and wanted to help him. So the dentist paid for my father’s education all the way to university.

I still remember when I was a little girl, my mother saying, Show me how you’re going to curtsey because you’re going to the dentist.

I cover my mouth tight, I don’t want to go to the dentist!

"Don’t scream, Stellunia, you’re going to visit the dentist." Because my father was so grateful to the dentist, he always brought us to show his own children. Later, when we were in Lódz ghetto and everyone was starving, my father would bring vegetables to the dentist also.

So, because of the dentist, my father was very well educated. He could speak beautiful Polish, perfect German, and perfect English. When he was a young man, he joined the Polish military. Being so educated, they figured he would be able to fly a plane. So they put him in the Polish Air Force and made him a pilot. The other soldiers liked him and gave him a new name: Boleslaw. It’s a Polish first name. That’s why my father’s name was written as Samuel Boleslaw Lewinski in his military papers.

My father met my mother after he was a soldier. My mother was in her early 20’s and she was on a train coming from the north of Poland going back to Lódz. She was a very pretty lady and she was sitting next to a young Polish fellow. My mother was brunette and right away she looked Jewish. This was the idea in Poland then. If somebody looks right away Jewish, they could be nasty to you. So the young fellow was saying, Hey Jewess! He was using Jewess rudely (zydówka in Polish) and flirting in an unpleasant way.

But there was another fellow sitting on the train, who was tall and handsome and blond and spoke beautiful Polish. He walked up to the Polish fellow and said, Stop irritating this lady. You want I should give you a punch! And the fellow ran away because my father was tall and strong.

Then my father sat down next to her and asked her name. Tola Rubin. And they started talking. And they talked all the way to Lódz on the train. That’s how they met.

My mother’s family was also from Lódz but they were not so poor like my father’s. They were middle class. They were well educated, refined. Some owned cars. But they were not so very religious like the grandparents. I have a photo of my grandfather, Shimshon Rubin. He was an Orthodox Jew, with the long beard, long coat, the earlocks (peyes), and wearing the velour religious hat. Grandmother Rubin’s maiden name was Devorah Wicentowski. She was an Orthodox religious lady too. They had nine children (one died at childbirth). Grandfather Rubin died young, leaving my Grandmother