Who Would Hide Me?
In the course of interviewing descendants of Holocaust survivors for my book on intergenerational trauma, a significant number of people mentioned without prompting that they had been thinking about what they would do if persecution of Jews returned. Surprisingly, some had already approached non-Jewish friends in the event they would need to go into hiding. That got me thinking. What would I do?
This was told to me by a third generation survivor, “my family had two extra freezers in our garage that my mom needed us to have in case another Holocaust broke out, and we need food to survive and hide, and my mom always has friends that understand and are not Jewish, who would be willing to hide us at any time.”
A child of survivor volunteered this, “I’ve given a lot of thought of who of my non-Jewish friends would hide me if I needed to be hidden.”
So, I posted on X, formerly known as Twitter, that I had received this feedback from some of those interviewed. That post received about 300 comments. These are some of the comments from Jews.
“I’ve asked.”
“We’ve all had to take our stock of this recently.”
“We have passports and a grab bag ready. I won’t say more than that.”
“I won’t ever hide again. I’ll Warsaw Ghetto this place.”
“I’m not sure my friends would hide me if it came to that.”
“That fear just doesn’t go away.”
“The sad part is that I suspect that people who I should be able to trust would me among the first to turn me in.”
Most comments were not from Jews. Many were shocked and horrified to learn that this sentiment exists in the Jewish community. A small number responded with attacks on the Jewish community because of the ongoing war in the Gaza. Diaspora Jews are being subjected to hate for a war that they have no say or influence. And then there are those who just don’t like the idea of Jews as victims. I’m sure this post will attract a small number of similar negative comments.
The majority of responses were from people offering to shelter my family or other Jewish families. Am I surprised? Not really. There were so many instances of Righteous Gentiles who risked their lives to hide and protect Jews. I saw many examples in my interviews with descendants of survivors. Perhaps one-third had at least one parent who was hidden for some part of the war. But I wonder how many of these offers would still be extended if this brought danger onto themselves and their families. After all, if conditions were such that Jews needed to go into hiding, then those who provide a safe haven would be equally at risk.
This is also the 85th anniversary of the St. Louis that set sail from Hamburg, providing a lifeline to Jews fleeing Nazi persecution. But when the passengers arrived at their destination in Havana, Cuba, most were not allowed to disembark. Both the U.S. and Canada denied entry to the desperate passengers.
Of the 620, St. Louis passengers who returned to continental Europe, 254 were murdered during the Holocaust, most of them in Auschwitz and Sobibor. Of the 288 passengers who managed to get to Britain, the vast majority were alive at war’s end.
The 1930s are not that long ago, and for the Jewish community, the trauma remains. The rise in antisemitism has shaken Jews around the world. Would I go into hiding if things became that bad? I don’t think I would. I can’t see myself living in fear is someone’s attic. Even at my age, I would rather die resisting then cowering in fear.
