Ruth Meissner III: Onward to El Salvador

 

Erich traveled to Israel for vacation and quickly met Ruth through Perla Meissner and her sister Ruchi (amongst other friends). They were married and and quickly left for an extended honeymoon.

(....) indicate my questions.

Erich came to Israel in March. And he went in Tel Aviv to an agency to buy two tickets for Eilat. He decided, “To Eilat I’m not going on my own. I must find someone to come with me.” He came looking for a wife. That was his reason why he came. So he decided to go to Eilat. It was on the eighth of May, the ninth of May. He took the two tickets without knowing just the date. And we met. And you know, between Pesach and Shavuot you can marry only on Lag B’Omer. Only one day. And this one day was the eighth of May. So when we met, we met maybe once before—very quickly we decided. It was something we decided, that we wanted each other. I don’t know, you really can call it love. We were not so young any more. Erich was thirty-five, I was thirty. So we knew already what we know, what we want. We married. And it came out that our first honeymoon was to Eilat on the two tickets that he bought before he knew me. That was our first honeymoon. (laughs) Isn’t it a nice story?

(Well done.)

That’s well done. (laughs) It was our first honeymoon. First I had to finish my place where I worked. I had a very responsible place and they had to find someone. So we had to wait. It took a little while. Then in June we left and made our honeymoon through Europe.

(You went through Europe. Where did you go?)

We went through Europe. We decided we are going to cities. We went to first in Rome, Vienna, Brussels, it was a World Exhibition there, then Paris, London, and New York. So we made a very nice honeymoon. On this honeymoon happened many things that I didn’t foresee. When I left Israel, I wasn’t very happy to leave. I felt very good here. I felt I am home, that this is where I belong. I had no other feelings. I even never thought about it moving. This is where I am staying. This is my place where I belonged. And I left my sister. She had four children. We were very close.


When I left, she told me in the airport, she told me, “You know, my birthday is in March. So I hope I will get a notice that you have a child.” She made the connections when you marry, the time, how it comes out. And you know, it came exactly on the day. (laughs) She got a telegram—because there were no phones at that time. So I sent a telegram. In the morning they called, and the difference of time, my daughter was born on the third of March. Her birthday is the fourth. But the difference of time, in the morning they called her, “Miriam, you have a telegram.” She said, “I knew she would give me the birthday present!” (laughs) So my daughter was born exactly when she said. So there are so many nice coincidences.

(March third?)

And she had her present on the fourth. My sister was born on the fourth of March.

(Which year is this?)

It was ’59. I married in ’58. It was ’59. But when I went off the plane in Rome, I suddenly realized I am back in Europe. And I was so depressed, I started to cry. And why I left Israel—you know, I realized only at that time how wonderful I felt in Israel. Everything came back to me. I was again in Europe. Everything was again. Who is Jewish? Everything what I felt, everything—

I remember back when I was just—I didn’t know who I am. Because during the war, the only thing you were thinking was to come home. But you didn’t realize you had no home. Home is not the house. A home is the family, and the family wasn’t there any more. So I think these are things that you can’t explain. You just can talk about it, but you can’t explain it.

(And there’s no way we can understand.)

No. It’s something, really—when I’m looking now at my grandchild, my grandson, he is thirteen, and I remember, I was alone and I was already without parents. I had to take care of my grandmother. She was eighty. She was confused. She didn’t know what happened. And here I was, you know? I was thirteen years old. I’m looking at him, he’s a child! I was a grown-up, of course, because I had to be. So life itself is so strong that you adapt yourself in every—how do you say?—every situation. You just adapt. You take what you have and you go on. You just go on. That’s something that you realize only after many years. I have a diary I wrote in the ghetto, and I have it.

(You kept it!)

Ja, I kept it. This is the only thing that I really had that I took with me when I left the ghetto. Because I was lucky. I was really lucky. I stayed in the ghetto from the beginning to the end. I didn’t go to Auschwitz or the other camps. I say “only” in the ghetto, only. But it was really much better than all other places. But it was bad enough. And I have the diary and then I sometimes—very seldom. Once, it was also interesting—I came and I put it away, and I never looked at it, never. I went to Salvador. I left it with my sister here. I didn’t even take it with me. I don’t know, I just didn’t—probably I didn’t want to see how I felt, maybe—I don’t know. It wasn’t conscious. I just didn’t look.

I was sixty and I had to have an operation, a bigger one, and then I decided, maybe I won’t come out of it, so let’s go! The whole night I was reading this diary, to see, and then came back so many things that I just forgot, or I just wanted to forget, probably. The feelings, all what I felt, you don’t like to remind yourself of bad things, so you just put them aside. But you never really forget them-- they are always there.

Transcription by Sandy Adler, Adler Enterprises LLC
Photo: From Meissner Family Collection. Ruth Meissner with children Rafi, Beni, and Tami--all born in San Salvador, El Salvador.