"I Cannot Forget the 10-Year-Old Avraham Who Jumped to His Death": Founder of Holocaust Memorial Museum Shares Her Story

"It takes someone with heart to carry out this project," says Irena Vladislavsky, a Holocaust survivor who established a museum in her home to commemorate the millions who were tortured and murdered. "I speak from my pain, and it is very important to me that the museum will remain even after I'm gone." Nineteen years ago, Irena (83) and her late husband Jacob, both Holocaust survivors, established the Holocaust and Heroism Memorial at their Ariel home, turning it into a lifelong project to remember the millions of Jews tortured and killed during the Holocaust because of their origin. Irena adds: "Beyond the commemoration initiative, the goal is to teach about the Holocaust period and educate on tolerance and love of mankind." Now, Irena worries about the museum's future.

According to the Central Bureau of Statistics, the number of people exposed to the Nazi regime who were living in Israel at the end of 2016 was approximately 186,500, of whom 57,500 had been in a ghetto, hiding place, labor camp, extermination camp, or concentration camp. Seventy-seven percent of them were born in Europe. About 101,000 lived in countries exposed to the Nazi regime, with about 55% born in North Africa. Around 28,100 were refugees forced to leave their homes due to the Nazi regime, with about 76% born in the former Soviet Union.

These three groups are defined by various official bodies as "Holocaust survivors" for the purpose of receiving rights and benefits due to their exposure to the Nazi regime. The data also show that because the Holocaust survivor population is aging, their numbers are dwindling. According to projections, by 2020, 76% of those who were alive at the end of 2016 are expected to survive, and by 2030, 29% will remain. By 2035, about 14% of those who were alive at the end of 2016 are expected to still be living. Of all Holocaust survivors, about 59% are women, and about 41% are men. The proportion of women increases with age, with about 63% in the 84 and older age group being women and about 37% men.

"What If Little Avraham Would Have Survived"

At the outbreak of World War II in 1939, Irena was a 3-year-old toddler. Her parents hid her in a non-Jewish home. "I was born and raised in Poland," she recalls. "My late husband was 13 and a half at war's outbreak, so he went through all the camps and forced labor. In 1946, he came to Israel. As a young child, I lived in hiding among non-Jews, and at age 20, I arrived in Israel. At some point, I was in the ghetto alone, and afterward, a woman named Veronica took care of me throughout the war. I didn't even know I was Jewish until my father, who came after the war, found me and brought me to Israel. Essentially, he told me I was Jewish.

(Photo: Private Album)

Though many years have passed, and I was a little girl, I have memories from the war years. For example, when I was on the farm with Veronica, one day I heard a commotion and the noise of many people. I was only five and a half. I wanted to leave the farm and see what was happening outside. Veronica caught me in her arms and forbade me from going out. The next day, she gave me a key and some utensils and asked me to go to the farm's storage located on the first floor and play with a new boy who had arrived and give him some food. Another task assigned to me was to take out his chamber pot. I still remember the encounter - standing before me was a slightly older boy, about 10, with dark skin, beautiful curls, and dark eyes. He was happy that I arrived and ate quickly because he was probably very hungry. I took the chamber pot out of the room, and I admit it was awful. For several days, I played with him and served him food. It later became clear to me that he was a Jewish boy, and the devoted Veronica, who did not want to wander the farm and arouse suspicion, imposed the task of feeding him on me. One day, I opened the room and didn’t find little Avraham—that was his name. I noticed the window was open. I quickly ran to tell Veronica that the child had gone. She shielded me and said she forgot to tell me that his parents took him.

After the war, when I was 14, the question of what happened to little Avraham haunted me. I was curious about what happened to him and asked her to tell me the truth. It turned out he jumped out of the window because his appearance differed from that of the Poles. He aroused suspicion, and indeed the locals identified him as a Jew, and a German soldier killed him on the spot. I wanted to know how he even reached Veronica. It then became clear to me that on the day I heard noise and voices coming from the street, Jews were actually being deported to be exterminated. They were walking on the main road and passed through the farm towards the trains. Avraham's parents were part of the convoy. They fled to the farm and hid in a haystack in the barn. In the evening, Veronica came to feed the cows, saw the couple, and agreed to their request to hide them on the farm until morning. The parents told her they arranged with some Poles to take them into hiding. The arrangement was that the parents would come for their son after a day or two. Avraham stayed, and his parents left, but the Poles killed his parents. Since no one came to take him, Avraham opened the window—ran and was killed. To this day, I think Avraham could have been married with a family and children."

What Will Happen to the Museum?

Irena says that Veronica's decision to hide the Jewish children in her home endangered her life, "Veronica was a hero. Hiding him was a death sentence in her eyes, yet she complied with the parents' request. Veronica told me she had worked for Jews in her youth and remembered them fondly. Veronica belonged to those non-Jews who wanted to help Jews. Although I didn't look Jewish physically, the decision to hide me with her definitely posed a danger to her. We kept in touch all those years. I helped and supported her. She did not want to be commemorated in Yad Vashem because she was still afraid of her neighbors, despite all the years that passed since the war ended."

Irena, a chemist by profession, emigrated to Israel, and at the age of 40, she became a widow from her first husband and remarried, but she has no children. The museum was established on four floors dedicated to the public. "My second husband, Jacob (Kuba), of blessed memory, and I decided to establish a museum in memory of the people murdered in the Holocaust whose names are unknown. It was very important to my husband that there be proper dissemination of information. Over the years, we maintained the museum at our own expense, and I continue to do so to this day.

"I have a lot of letters and postcards from Jews and non-Jews, as well as rare items: clothes from Auschwitz, patches, and armbands. The groups that come here are moved by the stories, hugging and kissing me—it warms the heart, the warmth, and the love are my payment. Now, I am troubled by what will happen to the museum. I do and act as much as I can with the help of two volunteers who assist me, but I have no one—I'm completely alone. I teach a generation of children about the Holocaust together with them. It's very important to me, but I have a very painful bubble—what will happen next? I have no children or grandchildren to take the reins, and it seems no one is interested. I'm ready to hand the contents over to someone willing to allocate a respectable place and manage the museum."

(Photo: Flash 90/Rachel Kruti)

Do children who come to visit show interest?

"Yes, very much. They ask questions and want to know—the generation is wonderful. They see me today and understand that I was a child who was there and lived during the Holocaust period—that captures them very much. They are fascinated by how I stayed alive and what I felt as a child. My personal story interests them. I invest all my strength in passing the information on, educating, receiving groups, and maintaining the home."

How did you get all the items and exhibits?

"My late husband was quite a serious stamp collector. At the time, over 40 years ago, I would accompany him to auctions, and while he was buying stamps, I began to be interested in items from World War II. I started collecting, and it caught us. On trips to Poland, we bought items from shops—postcards and very rare letters from Auschwitz, letters from non-Jews, postcards from Jews from various ghettos, and places like Warsaw and Krakow. In short, there is a treasure in the museum that is not measured in money."

How did you know to distinguish between original and fake?

"Of course, before purchasing items or objects, you must ensure they are not replicas but authentic originals. You need to know from whom to buy—from shops that sell items that have been checked and found to be authentic. Let's not forget that if a Jew wrote a letter from the ghetto to relatives in Russia and asked for food—that is the only postcard of its kind in the world. Until people come and see with their own eyes—they don't realize how great and beautiful it is."

What will be next?

"I need someone with a heart to accompany me. I speak from the heart and from my pain. It is very important to me that the museum remains even after. I can donate the items to another museum, which will take the exhibits and details but don’t know what will happen to them or where they will present them. I'm willing to cooperate—just for someone to manage the museum afterward. I invite everyone to visit; entry is free; they can call and arrange. I show things that will not be seen anywhere else—as the kids say: 'touching the Holocaust.'"