My mother Wilma Abeles Iggers, as the eldest daughter of Karl and Elsa Abeles, was originally supposed to speak today, because of her father's role in bringing everyone out to Canada.(More about Karl Abeles.) She was in Europe and she had decided that she had too much work to do and wouldn't be able to make it to the "60th anniversary" picnic. She called Hanna Faulkner - see how these things are communicated in a roundabout way? and told her that I would speak. However, once she saw the text of my remarks, my mother booked a flight right away.
Thinking about the story of the coming to Canada, it struck me how in one's mind, important events get boiled down and turned into catch-phrases and cliches. "My parents fled the Nazis." Of course, there's more to the story. There are stories, and they're worth telling.
I'm going to read a list of the people who came out in 1938, in the first group, and the people who came in 1939. As I read out names, I would ask the people and their descendants - those who brought chairs and can stand - please stand and remain standing until all the names are read: (Note: I've added the names of children who came along in parentheses)
(Group 1 - November 1938)
(Group 2 - 1939)
(Others who came out in 1939)
I want to apologize in advance, if the torch passed on to me by my mother, shines brightly on one of my ancestors in particular and leaves others, whose contributions also were large, in the shadow.
That ancestor was my grandfather Karl Abeles, whom I never met.
"Your grandfather", one person told me, "for us, he was our Moses." Another relative, distressed that my Mother would not be at the picnic, told me that her father had always told her that if it had not been for Karl Abeles, "we would all be ashes".
Karl Abeles stood apart. To begin with, he was physically large, imposing and immensely strong. I was told the story of how one day, when he was still a young teenager, he rode the train with his grandmother, the famous Great Grand-mother Abeles who lived until she was 103 and had her wits about her until she died. Bored and restless, young Karl amused himself by bending straight, with one hand, the iron coathooks that hung in every compartment on the train. "Der Hund scheisst auf deine Gewure", commented his unimpressed Grandma. (Roughly translated as: "The dog craps on your brawn.")
I was told: "The man had charisma. We did not know that word at the time, but that word, charisma, brings him to mind. He was a born leader. In any group, the centre of attention would gravitate toward him. He was a great storyteller. He was intellectually brilliant. He was more a scientific farmer than a practical one; he would rather work from a sofa than from the seat of a tractor. He wasn't a farm worker - that was too dull for him."
For Karl Abeles' 50th birthday, people wondered what to get him. Someone said "Let's get something for his desk." A nephew suggested instead: "No, get him something for his couch."
I want to mention that Karl Abeles was part of a partnership between the Abeles and the Popper families that began over 100 years ago, when Richard Abeles and his brother-in-law Joseph Popper became partners in agriculture in the 1890s. They formed their "Kompanie". That was continued by Karl Abeles and his brother Leo Abeles, and by Hugo and Alois Popper.
Prior to 1938, the families that emigrated from Czechoslovakia that year led normal lives. They farmed, ran shops and businesses, attended schools, were part of their communities.
Not long after Adolf Hitler came to power in Germany in 1933, he decided to test the resolve of England and France to keep Germany in check, by sending German troops into the Rhineland territories. The Rhineland had been de-militarized since the end of the First World War, in order to prevent Germany from becoming a threat again to peace. Britain and France backed away from confrontation.
By 1938, Hitler was anxious to bring territories with large German-speaking populations into the Reich. In March 1938 came the "Anschluss", when Austrians voted to join Germany, and Austria was quickly annexed.
Next came the Sudetenland, where our parents and grandparents lived, part of the Czech province of Bohemia. The Sudetenland had a large German population. Most were enthusiastic supporters of Hitler, the Nazis and unification with Germany.
My aunt Marianne Abeles Ferber recalled that when that year an English diplomat, Lord Runciman came to negotiate with the Germans and the Czechs about the Sudetenland, the members of the town's Nazi Heinlein Partei were in the streets, screaming: "Lieber Lord, mach uns frei von der Tschechslowakei." ("Dear Lord, make us free, from Czechoslovakia")
By the Summer and Fall of 1938, as Hitler increased the pressure, our parents and grandparents hoped that England and France would do the right thing, and stand up for Czechoslovakia. Neither the French nor the British were prepared to stand up to Hitler. British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain and French Foreign minister Daladier signed the Munich Agreement with Hitler and Mussolini. This gave Hitler a green light to move in on the Sudetenland. On October 1, 1938 German troops marched into the Sudetenland. Chamberlain proclaimed on his return to London that the agreement, would bring Peace in Our Time.
Members of this group saw they were in peril, because they were Jews. Few were devout. In my mother's family, though services were attended on the High Holidays, and marriages were performed by a rabbi, the Sabbath was not kept strictly or at all, and pork was a regular part of their diet. However, they were Jewish enough for the anti-Semites, and Jewish enough for Hitler. They also were mostly German-speakers who were loyal citizens of their country, Czechoslovakia.
Marianne recalled that her mother said after the Austrian Anschluss that Bohemia would be next. Marianne and Wilma thought their mother was too pessimistic and too cynical. However, Karl Abeles was impressed enough that he went on scouting expeditions with Karl Schleissner to Canada, with a side trip to the US, and on a separate scouting trip to France.
Karl Abeles thought Canada was too far. He was keen on a farm in France, in the Calvados region. He said: When its all over with Hitler, in one hour we're home. However his wife, Karl Schleissner and many other members of the group insisted that France was not far enough. They urged that they should go to Canada. Karl Schleissner was insistent: "Im not going anywhere other than Canada", he said. That was the final decision.
Emil Lederer also played an important role in steering the group to Canada. He had a friend, a man by the name of Schmidt, a German Social Democrat who had emigrated to Nova Scotia after Hitler came to power, and was farming there. He urged Emil to get out of Europe before it was too late. Emil came to the relatives and urged them to consider Canada. I'm told the group would not have been as well-prepared, if it had not been for Emil Lederer pressing the case for Canada.
The final decision to leave came after the Munich Agreement was signed on September 29, 1938. My mother recalls:
I remember very vividly being in Prague during the Munich Conference and seeing the crowds in the street, and the crying and chanting afterwards. It brought home to me that treaties are pretty worthless, because the parties will only honour them as long as it suits them.
The night before the final decision was made to leave, Joe Loewith arrived in the middle of the night at Karl Abeles' house in Bischofteinitz. He threw pebbles at the window to get their attention. Joe was serving in the Czechoslovak army at the time. He had been sent out on special duty, to an office to serve as an interpreter. He had seen among the papers he was translating a list - perhaps a list prepared by the local Nazis - of people who were to be rounded up, and Karl Abeles' name was at the top of that list.
Karl Abeles arranged for Canadian Visas through the Canadian Pacific Railroad. The CPR hoped to sell steamship and rail tickets, and owned vast tracts of farmland in Western Canada that it hoped to sell.
At the time, Canadian Immigration was ruled by Deputy Minister of Immigration, Frederick Charles Blair. Jews fleeing from Europe were not admitted to Canada as refugees. And although Canada let in farmers, there were directives to exclude Jews even when they were farmers. Blair was the architect of this anti-Semitic policy, that was enforced during the pre-war period and during the war. The title of the book None is Too Many, by Abella and Troper, the history of Canadian immigration policy during that period, is a quote from Blair, referring to the number of Jewish refugees that he thought should be allowed into Canada.
[In None is Too Many , in Chapter four: The Children who never came, the story is told of a transport of hundreds of Jewish children in Nazi-occupied France, with exit permissions and passage arranged by the Red Cross, ready to come to Canada, who were turned away by Blair and the Mackenzie King Cabinet.]
According to None is Too Many, (p.16):
... In April 1938, at the behest of Blair, who did not believe that Jews could be farmers, railway colonization agents in Europe were told to allow in as few Jewish agriculturalists as possible. ...
(Blair) personally scrutinized each application, deciding on its eligibility. From among the thousands of Jews beseeching Canada for admission, Blair declared a few hundred eligible. From among those eligible, both national railways were permitted to select fifty farm families yearly.
Karl Abeles' friendship with the CPR representative in London, England, Mr. Cameron, helped. At one point, Mr. Cameron travelled from London to inspect the farms in Czechoslovakia.
I'm told that even more important was Karl Abeles' relationship with Deputy Minister Blair, who was impressed by Karl. It is not certain that Blair was aware that Karl Abeles and his farmers were Jewish. Some of the people I spoke with think that Blair did not know these were Jewish farmers he was admitting to Canada. Others say that it is not possible that Blair did not know.
Perhaps Blair's prejudice was directed at a stereotype of backward Eastern European peasant and stetl Jew, and did not extend to prosperous, assimilated Western-European Jews such as these.
Many of the families in the group did not have sufficient capital to qualify as farmers in Canada. It was difficult if not impossible for members of the group to sell their farms and other property quickly and raise enough foreign exchange. Karl busied himself locating people with capital who could not come to Canada as farmers, and negotiated arrangements with them. These non-farmers included the Behals and a Mr. Moller, the Lustigs and the Honigs. They invested to help buy Canadian farms, and Karl helped get them visas as farmers.
I'm told that Karl Abeles also obtained conversion papers or baptismal certificates for the members of the Abeles and Popper families.
Hanna Faulkner remembers that a lot of the financial affairs were looked after in lawyer Alex Lustig's office. Large sums of foreign currency had to be obtained, and then it had to be hidden - some of it behind the toilet tank in the lawyer's office.
Two members of the first group were not Jewish: Hugo Abels' wife Jara, and young Arnold Schmocker, the "Schweizer" - a term for cattle breeding specialist - who was in fact Swiss. It was what Karl Abeles learned about pastures from Arnold Schmocker's father, that led him to develop his "permanent pastures" that in turn earned Karl Abeles a place, posthumously, in the Ontario Agricultural Hall of Fame in Milton.
The People who came out In 1938 were mainly farmers from around Bischofteinitz. Others came in 1939. Frank Seger, his sister Minna and their mother, who lived in Prague, did not come out with the first group. After the Germans occupied Prague, the Segers decided to telephone Karl Abeles on the farm in Canada, and asked if he could help get them visas. The next day, the visas were arranged for the Segers, as well as for the Bischofteinitz mechanic Tichopad and his wife and their son and daughter. The news that the Segers had obtained the visas for Canada spread all over Prague, and people clamoured and begged for help to get them Canadian visas as well.
Marianne recalls that among those who came later, many took the initiative themselves and approached Karl Abeles or others in the group, and then Karl would persuade the Canadian officials that they were all farmers. After arriving in Canada, Karl made a number of trips to Ottawa to meet with Blair and other officials.
The story is told of Dr. Vogl, who lived in Pilsen and was the family pediatrician. When he and his family got to Brussels and went to the Canadian consulate, they asked him what his occupation was. He told them he was a physician. The Canadians called Karl Abeles and asked what was going on. "Well I will tell you the truth.", Karl told them. "He did get a degree once upon a time, but he thinks it sounds better to say that he is a doctor, although he has been farming all his life."
Dr. Vogl got his visa, was on a farm for the required 5 years, then got a Canadian degree and lived out his life in St. Catherines as a very successful pediatrician.
Some people were invited to join the group, but declined. It must have been tremendously difficult for people who were successful and well-established in the country of their birth, to leave everything behind and make a new start in a strange country where they did not know the language. It also is important to remember that people could not foresee what was to come.
A cousin, Robert Ornstein, who was a lawyer in Prague told Karl that it would be too difficult for him and his wife to go to a strange country with a strange language, where he would start all over again. At 42 years of age, he was not going to learn how to milk cows. They would manage to survive.
Of course, they did not survive.
Neuhof, the partners' main farm, was Karl Abeles' prize, his pride and glory. When he went with my mother to Neuhof to say goodbye, he drove out to the farmyard, stopped the car, put his head on the steering wheel and cried.
Marianne recalls:
Nothing was sold. They just packed up the car, came to pick me up at the horticultural school, stayed with Walter and Zdenka Abeles and left as soon as my father could raise the foreign exchange and buy tickets for everyone on nonstop flights to Brussels. Of course he could only get a few seats on the one flight each day, so it took about a week to assemble there.
People were allowed one trunk each. Hedda Popper, mother of Dick and Joe, brought her accordion and its case as her one item. We have to have music, she said. She also brought music to her sons lives, by carefully selecting wives for them.
I was told:
The trips by boat, both across the Channel (when the women shared a couple of big rooms, as did the men) and across the Atlantic were pretty miserable. Most of us were seasick. The food on the ship was miserable; and besides, except for the Lustigs, we did not know enough English to know what we were ordering. Crossing the Channel, Doris Lederer (now Popper), then three years old, kept complaining: "Ich kann doch nicht schlafen wenn ihr alle kotzt". The noise of everyone throwing up was keeping her awake.
Karl had spent his last Czech money on a Hungarian salami, and whenever he felt a bit better, he ate a hunk of it and, not surprisingly, he then always got sick again.
The story is told that one of the women (grandmother Ornstein) lost her dentures over the ships rail, and went to the ship's captain to insist he stop the ship so that her dentures could be retrieved. I'm told the story about losing the dentures is true, but the story about asking to stop the ship was made up.
During the ocean voyage, eleven year-old Hans Schleissner was heard to say in Egerlander dialect, "Hayerts sho off, e ho sho gnoch" (Stop it (the ship) already!; I've had enough.)
I'm told that the earliest reminiscences for most members of the group would be from the Wren Farm, where everyone except the Lustigs and Karl and Elsa Abeles and their daughters stayed for the first weeks.
According to Marianne, each family had a room in the big old farmhouse. There were nowhere near enough beds. On November 11, 1938, the day after they arrived, when they came to the farm, people were busy stuffing straw ticks, and most of them slept on those.
Hans Schleissner, who along with Hana is travelling in Europe and could not be here today, sent the following anecdote about the first days:
First Meal on Reuben Wren Farm Caledonia
We found apples were not picked and potatoes not harvested. Therefore our first meal consisted of apple-sauce and mashed potatoes. everyone loved the meal. However, there were repercussions; the apples and potatoes must have been frozen, and we all had to rush to the out-house, all five families. The volume was just too great for the little out-house on the hill. A new site was found in the valley close to the house.
That night, we had a heavy rain and the little house was surrounded by water. Our engineers had to build a walkway with boards, so the outhouse could be reached.
The moral of the story is:
Doris Popper, whose family were the only ones not to come directly to Ontario after the ship docked at Montreal, tells that after they arrived in Nova Scotia they dined for months on apples and potatoes they collected, and her mother's favourite food was potato latkes with applesauce.
In Czechoslovakia, most of the group had servants - maids, cooks, even chauffeurs. In Canada, they were on their own. Doris recalls that after her twin brothers were born in Nova Scotia, her mother would scrub 42 diapers a day on the washboard. There was no telephone. They had no car, and got around by horse and buggy.
Hanna Faulkner recalls that after the Ridge Farm was bought, two weeks after they arrived, a group of the men would walk from the Wren Farm to the Ridge Farm early every morning. Hugo, Alois, Frank and Willy Ekstein and her brother Karli went every morning, to learn how Mr. Ridge did things in Canada. In Czechoslovakia, there were no silos, and all the milking was done by hand - by the women. In Canada there were milking machines, and the men had to learn how to operate them.
The logs kept at the Ridge farm record that during the first year or so, the farmers received in all approximately $200 for milk sales, and that amount was divided among five families to live on.
Every day, a Mountie would stop by the farm, to check on them because they were enemy Aliens. He soon learned that they made awfully good coffeecake on the farm. He kept checking in on them daily.
Sundays soon became open house days on the farm, when people from the farms and those who lived in town would gather for cake and pastry and conversation.
Many in the local community in Hamilton and Mount Hope, Jews and non-Jews, were very helpful to the newcomers. The local schoolteachers helped to instill some discipline in unruly boys. Hanna Faulkner recalls that she and Minna Lowidt were taken in by the Pollock family, that owned groceterias and were very wealthy. They had a cook and a butler - much as some of the group had left behind. The girls were expected to do some babysitting and housekeeping, but were treated as part of the family. When the Pollocks went to Florida, the girls were taken in by Morrie Silbert and his new wife in their very modest home. The Silberts had little, but were exceedingly generous. Hanna remembers that the Silberts insisted that the girls speak only English.
Uncle Alois was sent to the store to buy calf brains, as it was one of the cheapest meats. (My mother, who knows these things, says they were not just cheap, but very tasty.) Alois did not know the English word for calf's brains. He came home with all bran, very impressed with how nice and neat they had packaged the calves' brains.
A similar story is told about Hugo Popper, sent to the feed store for corn feed. He tried the German word "kukurutz", but they did not understand. He then tried the German word for corn, that is similar to the word "maize" - that is, "mais", pronounced "mice", and he was thrown out of the store.
Once, following an automobile accident, Uncle Alois was sent to hospital with a concussion. Alois tried his best to ask for a robe to wear. They misunderstood, and gave him an enema.
When I was a child in the 1960s, the age my children are now, the notion of something that happened "sixty years ago" - at that time the years between 1900 and 1910, seemed like more than a lifetime. The automobile had barely begun to replace horse and buggy, and electric lights were new. In 1900, there was no tv and no radio. People wore funny old fashioned clothes. Sixty years? when I was a child, sixty years might as well have been 200 years.
I remember at the age of seven, in Paris, being aware that little more than 15 years before, which did not seem to me a long time, the Nazis had still occupied that city. That seemed near in time but utterly incongruous beside the reality of the peaceful, prosperous good world that surrounded me.
But today, to me, sixty years does not seem that long ago. Our parents and grandparents lives were different from ours, but maybe not all that different. They farmed, they worked in professions, they raised their families, played sports, travelled to Prague and Vienna and Berlin. And faced with a threat almost too monstrous to comprehend, they did what they had to do, and were able to do, to find a safe haven for themselves and their families.
The world seems to have learned little. People are still being uprooted from their homes in many parts of the world, 'ethnically cleansed" in Bosnia and perhaps next in Kosovo, murdered in Cambodia and in Rwanda - where the United Nations was warned a year before that plans were afoot to murder several hundred thousand Tutsis. Thus the words "Never Again" have hollow sound to them; the world today is not different.
But we are among the fortunate ones; we are here, and we have much to be thankful for: for the haven that was offered - however grudgingly - by this great country; for the courage of those who made the voyage; for the decency, energy and great good will, and love, our parents and grandparents brought to Canada and the good life and future they helped to make for their families and their communities.
Those Jewish Farmers and their descendants are grateful for the opportunity that Canada has given them to come to Canada and to make a contribution. Those Jewish farmers and their descendants have taken advantage of that opportunity, and Canada has benefited greatly: They were and are world class farmers, bringing new agricultural methods to Canada, building award-winning farms, showplaces such as the Loewiths, the Poppers and the Eksteins' farms where prize-winning cattle have been raised and the Canadian and Provincial governments have sent foreign delegations to learn from their accomplishments. They have made great contributions in business, in professions, in their communities - teachers, veterinarians, doctors, artists, purveyors of fine food, printers. Loewidts and Segers have built outstanding lumber businesses. Richard Schleissner helped to develop Canada's cattle export trade. Marianne Ferber has had a distinguished career as an economist, and two years ago was honoured by McMaster University as a distinguished graduate. My own mother has not done badly in that department herself.
We are the better for having come here, and it is not too immodest to say that Canada and the United States are the better for it - and got the better part of the bargain when our parents and grandparents came here.
L' Chaim.
