7/27/2019 THWO Als Stories Dads Story Cayla Biderman

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Dads StoryBy Cayla Biderman

Im standing here before you in the Barracks of Birkenau to tell the story about a youngboy who, 60 years ago, was sent to this horrible place. He was not much older than manyof you. He did a march, just as you did, only his, as you know was a Death March.

I was born December 26, 1929 in SatuMare, Hungary. I grew up in a very orthodox familywith three brothers. I spent most of my time going to school and studying at home. I wasalways tormented for being Jewish. I was beat up daily and had stones thrown at me.

I dont remember when the big changes came. All I know is that we were taken from ourhouses in the middle of the night and sent to a ghetto where we lived for 6 months. I wasthen sent by cattle-car to Birkenau. I was put in a selection line and separated from my

parents and two of my brothers. I never saw them again.I got my tattoo A8360. I cried and got slapped. I was marched to Auschwitz and told to hidemy payis. I was told about the gas chambers. Now I know what happened to my family.

I worked in a factory called Bunau, making bunkers for the Germans. I had very little food.I was selected one day to be put to death because the head of the barracks switched thenames on the list and added mine. I pleaded with the guards. I cried. They took my name offthe list.

I went to the hospital because I had water on the brain. I was lucky because I got a Jewishdoctor and was given a spinal tap. I saw experiments being done on others.

I was then sent by cattle-car to Buchenwald. I arrived there and found the person under mewas dead, as were many others. I had no food or water.

I went on a Death March to Flossenburg. I had been separated from my brother. I didnt havefood or water again. I saw many people collapse and get thrown in ditches.

The allies caught up with us while on the march to Flossenburg. We were LIBERATED! I got

gum and chocolate!

I was in the hospital for three months and almost died. I was put in an orphanage by theUNRAA. My brother was able to locate me through the Red Cross. We both thought eachother had died. We came to Canada 1 year later.

I am a survivor.

This was the story of Joseph Lichtenstein. He is my father and my hero. He was one of the lucky ones tosurvive. However, the unlucky part was that we were lef t with no family, no bubbies, zaidies, aunts, uncles

or cousins. As the song says, Think of the grandfather you never kissed, all of the relatives that you havemissed Raise up your voice and then raise your f ist and tell the world never again!