FITCHBURG – You could have heard a pin drop. Middle schoolers and high schoolers were waiting for a 93-year-old to speak.
And speak he did – with grief, humor and romance. Holocaust survivor Israel “Izzy” Arbeiter was telling his story Dec. 13 at St. Bernard Central Catholic High School.
English teacher Caitlin Reidy said she started seeking a speaker in August and got Mr. Arbeiter through The American Association of Jewish Holocaust Survivors and Descendants of Greater Boston. Sophomores had summer reading and a fall unit about the Holocaust.
“They were moved in a way I hadn’t seen before,” she marveled.
She said she wanted students, who sometimes question faith, to see that “faith isn’t dead” and experience history as future generations won’t, given the advanced age of Holocaust survivors.
“I thought it was important that the whole school come to this, because our motto is, ‘Love one another’ and I wanted the kids to experience empathy,” she said.
The principal, Robert B. Blanchard, said St. Bernard Elementary School and Holy Family Academy in Gardner brought some of their students. Family members and political leaders came too.
Longtime English teacher Kathleen Boudreau rejoiced that Ms. Reidy got a speaker to whom students could relate.
Ms. Reidy said her students asked so many questions that one day she dropped her planned lessons and focused on the Holocaust. She said that teachers can do that in Catholic schools, because students aren’t just there to pass tests, but to learn life lessons.
“So many of our students were in tears” during Mr. Arbeiter’s talk, she said. “Everybody loved him.” They’re asking if he’ll come back.
“I thought it was amazing to hear an actual Holocaust survivor speak,” said Fanette Karngong, a sophomore. “He’s an inspiration.”
Grace Soultanian, senior class president, said Mr. Arbeiter’s talk was “very powerful – the power of hope … perseverance.” She marveled at how he could live through something so horrible and go on to have a great life, give back and share his story.
“The personal experience is something that you can’t be taught in a history book or a piece of literature,” said Liam Fluharty, student council president. “We were all very intrigued.” He said he was disappointed that they did not get to hear all of the story.
So was Mr. Arbeiter: “To put five-and-one-half years of a horrible life in 45 minutes … I’m sorry I couldn’t finish.” But he shared several memories.
He said he was born in Poland, one of five brothers. When he was 14, German troops and police came. Jews were forced into a ghetto. His family had to give one of their two rooms to another family.
“Imagine two women trying to share one kitchen!” Mr. Arbeiter said. His family complained, and was moved into a leaky shed. His father figured: “This is a war. I’ve lived through war. Things will return to normal.”
But more displacement and death followed.
“I was declared a slave, condemned to death for the only crime I committed – being born to Jewish parents,” Mr. Arbeiter said. “I’m a survivor of Auschwitz.” He showed his number from that notorious camp tattooed on his arm.
In 1942 Jews were assembled in two groups. He and two of his brothers were placed with those able to perform slave labor.
“I was a teenager; I was never away from my family,” Mr. Arbeiter said. Risking his life, he joined family members in the other group. His father told him and his brothers to go back, save themselves and carry on the Jewish tradition. He didn’t say to claim they weren’t Jewish.
“This is the darkest day of my life,” Mr. Arbeiter said, sometimes speaking in the present tense when recalling the past.
“Those were the last words of my father. My mother couldn’t speak,” thinking she’d never see her children again. “And the same thing was with us, that we knew we’ll never see our parents again. That is with me every day since Oct. 23, 1942.”
His parents and 7-year-old brother were murdered in a death camp that day, he said.
He was sent from one camp to another. In one, when he was in a quarantined barrack, those sick prisoners were ordered to go outside, and were shot as they did so. Keeping still when a searchlight was shone on him, he escaped to another barrack, where friends hid him, risking their lives. His brothers were told that everyone in the quarantined barrack had been shot.
“I heard my two brothers,” Mr. Arbeiter said. “I said, ‘I’m here; I’m alive.’ … You can imagine the feeling. … But it didn’t last very long.” He was ordered to return to the quarantined barrack because he was sick – which meant no food. A kitchen worker risked her life to steal food for his brother to get to him.
When he was ordered to work, but was too sick to, others offered to do his share of the work.
Mr. Arbeiter was later sent to Auschwitz.
“Life in Auschwitz is unbearable,” he said. He doesn’t blame those who can’t believe it; it’s impossible that human beings could do the killing, torturing and experiments without anesthesia that they did there.
When Allies liberated them he was 20, but his life and education had been cut off; he had the brains of a 14-year-old, he said. He took a motorcycle he didn’t know how to drive, figuring it belonged to a Nazi, and was arrested by American military police. An officer helped him get papers from Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower, leader of the American forces.
Mr. Arbeiter found one of his brothers and brought him to where he was living in the American zone. He learned the whereabouts of the former kitchen worker who’d saved his life and decided he should thank her in person. So he rode the motorcycle 1,000 kilometers to her camp in the British zone, showing the armed guard his papers before gaining admittance.
He took the girl for a motorcycle ride, but it was late when they returned and finding overnight accommodations was a problem. The girls she lived with held a conference and the oldest said, “I don’t like this guy; he’s a … gigolo.” The others said, “He’s got to stay some place.” They let him sleep on the floor in their room.
He invited the girl who’d saved his life to go with him back to the American zone. The other girls thought he had ulterior motives.
“She decided to go with me,” he said.
“We are married now for the past 72 years” and have three children, three grandchildren and four great-grandchildren. Listeners applauded.
Mr. Arbeiter shared a summary of what happened: “World War II came to an end. … The gas chambers ceased to function. … Remnants came out. People celebrated the Allied victory. … For us the victory came too late. … Only then did we realize” the losses.
“We have cried. The horrible suffering cannot be forgotten. We pray and hope that peace and understanding will continue.”