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July 16, 1999/3 Av 5759, Vol. 51, No.41
Holocaust survivors say they are bullied once again
TAMI BICKLEY
Staff Writer
Fred Blau remembers the night of March 13, 1938, like it was yesterday. For his family, it was doomsday - the day German Nazis stormed through his hometown of Vienna, Austria, hunting for Jews and destroying and looting things that belonged to Jews.
Blau, a Phoenix resident now in his 80s, owned a jewelry store in Vienna up until that fateful night when he, his parents, and his wife, Gertie, took refuge on the top floor of a neighbor's apartment building in a room "maybe twice the size of a bathroom."
For nine fright-filled months, the Blaus hid in the windowless room, lying side-by-side on the floor. They managed to survive by nibbling on end pieces of cheese, salami and old bread that Blau would receive from merchants when he snuck downstairs to the building's market each night.
After the destruction of Kristallnacht (the "night of broken glass," Nov. 9-10, 1938), the Blau family emerged from their shelter into a ravaged Vienna. They discovered that Nazis had looted thousands of dollars worth of jewelry from Blau's store. They also learned their home had been destroyed, and valuables such as paintings and furniture had been stolen. Perhaps one of the lowest points for Blau's father, a musical composer, was when he realized his prized possession - his piano - was gone.
Having miraculously survived for nine months in hiding, Blau was able to obtain visas for himself and his family, by which they escaped war-torn Vienna and moved to New York City in 1939.
"I didn't choose who I was or that I was born Jewish, and I had to leave my country with nothing," says Blau. "They took (everything), and we each were left with about $8."
Many tales such as Blau's, of Holocaust survivors who were robbed of their valuable possessions, have surfaced since World War II. But it was not until recently that various banks and governments involved have actually been making some reparations to survivors and to the descendants of Holocaust victims.
Getting the run-around
After years of haggling with the Austrian government (via Austrian attorneys) to receive reparation for himself and his family's losses, Blau has nearly given up.
"I think (the governments) are waiting until we're dead, and until then, they keep giving us the run-around," says Blau.
Providing the evidence required by various foreign governments in order to qualify for reparation can be difficult for survivors, according to David Kader, professor of law at Arizona State University's College of Law, and the president of the Phoenix Holocaust Survivors' and Friends Association.
"There are always these proof requirements that you were in a ghetto, or you were in a concentration camp," says Kader. "It's difficult to prove because people don't have documentation, and records were destroyed."
Another pitfall, Kader says, is that even if a government agrees to compensate qualified victims, the governments may limit reparation programs to "those who are currently in financial hardship."
"Then the question becomes, 'What level of financial hardship (is expected for someone to qualify)? And how does one prove that?' " he says. "(Above) all of this are justice issues because no amount of money is going to be adequate to do justice to the millions of people and their descendants who were injured or destroyed or hurt by (the Holocaust). All of the squabbles have been, in my judgment, about setting the record straight to make sure those responsible, whether it be governments or companies, are held accountable."
Phoenix attorney Brian Finander, who is contesting a reparation-related case for one client and is trying to claim reparation for two other Valley clients, admits the process of dealing with some foreign governments is "a nightmare." The German government has been especially shrewd in its dealings with Finander and his clients, he says.
"To them, it's just bureaucratic. They're over there in Germany, and they don't care. They hired some guy to act like an insurance agent, and his job is to look for reasons to deny these people (from getting reparation). And what does he care? He collects his check and goes home."
And, he adds, one of the biggest challenges is that legal documents are written in German, a language neither he nor his clients read and write well. "The mere fact that the Germans have it set up this way discourages people from fighting them."
Agencies assume duties
But if those seeking reparation would first contact the Jewish Claims Conference in New York City or a German Consulate in the United States, filing claims would not be such a hassle, according to Margit Haeberle, spokeswoman for the German Consulate in Los Angeles.
"The Jewish Claims Conference has taken over (handling) these claims for the German government," says Haeberle. "(The German Consulate) deals mainly with people who are victims of the Holocaust who receive pensions. ... People should write to either (agency) stating what has happened to them, and we can review it. Then we can re-direct (the claims) to Germany. ... We will help people to process whatever is necessary."
Finander, however, says he wrote a lengthy letter on behalf of his clients to the German Consulate in Los Angeles more than a month ago, and has not received a response. He also sent a letter to the Jewish Claims Conference, he says, but was told by the claims conference to contact the German and French governments directly. Because Finander has been unsuccessful in eliciting a response from those governments, he says he will attempt to file with the claims conference a second time.
As far as Finander's complaint about the language discrepancy, Haeberle explains: "You cannot expect everyone in Germany (at claims agencies) to speak English." She also says that if people come to a German consulate in the United States with such a problem, the consulate can recommend attorneys who speak English and German to assist them with paperwork.
Red tape intimidating
Finander says it is difficult to provide an exact figure for the number of people who feel they deserve reparation, or exactly how much money is involved. Many victims have died, leaving only verbal stories or scant documentation to their children and grandchildren. Others are too intimidated by the red tape involved in making such claims to bother contacting an attorney.
Philip Block of Scottsdale called Finander to help him claim reparation. Block is a natural-born American citizen who lived in Texas during World War II. His parents, Gaston and Andr‚ Block, were Jews born in France, and were Americans through naturalization. In addition to their Texas home, during the war they leased an apartment in a portion of Paris that was occupied by Germany. Block alleges the Vichy government, which worked closely with the Nazis, entered the apartment and confiscated valuable artwork and antique furniture.
Block's mother, now deceased, had compiled a list of 26 stolen items. It is the only concrete evidence Block has to offer to the French and German governments, and it so far hasn't satisfied them, he says.
"So far, they've been giving us the run-around," he says. "If I can't do anything legally, I hope to (create) a system of humiliation for (the French and German governments). ... If it gets into the European papers, I will have accomplished what I set out to do."
Block, 64, does not know how much the stolen items would be worth today. That would have to be determined by an antiques aficionado, says his wife, Sandra. In a case so old, however, Block doubts he will ever receive reparation.
Arnold Winninger of Peoria says he, too, doubts he will be compensated for the lost profits of his father's wholesale fur business. The business closed in 1939, after Winninger's father was ordered to go off with the Gestapo. He was never seen by his family again.
Winninger, who was 14 at the time, left his mother and brother - who were later killed by Nazis - and fled his hometown of Leipzig, Germany. To escape the same fate as his family, he traveled to Yugoslavia, Italy, Switzerland, New York, and then finally settled in Boston in 1949.
Winninger recently contacted Finander in an attempt to claim "anything (he) could get."
'Germans need proof'
"I have no papers and no proof, and the Germans need proof," says Winninger. He is well aware, he says, that his three children and eight grandchildren will never be repaid any of his family's lost money.
"Each one of (my clients) is trying to find a legal way to deal with (their situations)," Finander says. "It takes a lot of time and it's not easy. ... It's a real trap."
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