Found footage reveals 3 poignant minutes in prewar Poland
By Jessica Zach Nov. 14, 2014 from SF Chronicle
When Glenn Kurtz discovered a dusty VHS tape
of his grandparents’ 1930s vacation movies tucked away in a closet of his
parents’ Florida home six years ago, he thought he had stumbled upon a minor
family memento. Maybe the amateur travelogue — labeled “Our Trip to Holland
Belgium Poland Switzerland France” — would shed light on Kurtz’s paternal
grandfather, a Jewish immigrant from Poland, who had died before Kurtz was
born.
“It was just Grandma and Grandpa’s vacation to
Europe, and no one considered that it might have real historical value,” says
Kurtz.
His engrossing, exhaustively researched new
book “Three Minutes in Poland” charts the consuming four-year journey of
genealogical sleuthing that Kurtz embarked on, triggered by just a few minutes
of that grainy 70-year-old footage (transferred years earlier from 16mm film).
Tucked in between the Kurtzes’ sojourns in
Brussels and the Swiss Alps were three minutes, shot in both black-and-white
and — surprisingly for its time — color, of their August 1938 visit to Kurtz’s
grandfather’s hometown of Nasielsk, Poland.
An everyday small-town street scene comes to
life: Children goof for the camera; bearded old men and women in kerchiefs
cluster in doorways, keen to glimpse the prosperous American tourists with the
newfangled Kodachrome movie camera, “the iPhone of its day.”
“I got shivers the moment these scenes
appeared. Everything else faded away,” Kurtz, 52, said by phone from New York
where he moved in 2006 after 20 years in the Bay Area.
A classical guitarist turned writing
professor, Kurtz is also the author of the well-received 2007 book “Practicing:
A Musician’s Return to Music.” He earned his doctorate from Stanford in 1994 in
German studies and comparative literature.
“Those shtetl faces broke the frame,” he says.
“I realized I wasn’t looking at a family vacation anymore. I suddenly saw this
as a unique record of a place that probably had no other extant documentation.
It was evidence of a world that would soon cease to exist.”
Neither the American visitors nor the Polish
townspeople going about their summer day had any inkling of the catastrophe
looming on the horizon in Europe.
Kristallnacht (the “Night of Broken Glass”),
the Nazi-coordinated pogrom against the Jews, would take place in Germany and
Austria just three months after David and Liza Kurtz sailed back home to
Flatbush, Brooklyn, on the Queen Mary.
Germany invaded Poland, beginning World War
II, one year later on Sep 1, 1939, and the persecution of Nasielsk’s Jews began
immediately. On Dec. 3, the town’s entire Jewish population was deported in
boxcars, many bound for Treblinka.
Community lost
Of Nasielsk’s approximately 3,000 Jews when
the Kurtzes visited, fewer than 100 survived the war.
“I wanted to reach inside the frame and shake
these people, scream to them, 'Get up! Run! Flee!’” Kurtz writes.
Instead, Kurtz did everything in his power to
fill in the identities and unknown fates of those nameless faces.
Part memoir and part history lesson as taught
by a dogged and emotionally invested researcher, 'Three Minutes” chronicles the
chain of coincidences after Kurtz donated the original, and badly
deteriorating, film to the Steven Spielberg Film and Video Archive at the
United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. The museum made it
available online.
“Glenn is very lucky he got his film to us
when he did because I don’t think it would have been much longer until it was
completely disintegrated,” says Leslie Swift, the Holocaust Museum’s chief of
film, oral history and recorded sound.
Swift and Kurtz will speak together in San
Francisco on Monday, Nov. 17.
After 18 months combing through the JewishGen
and Shoah Foundation databases and oral histories, Kurtz thought he had “gone
as far as possible” with identifying his grandparents’ film.
Family research
And then he got an e-mail from Marcy Rosen, a
lawyer in Detroit, who found the Kurtz family film online when researching her
grandfather Maurice Chandler (formerly Moszek Tuchendler), a Holocaust
survivor.
Rosen immediately recognized the exuberant,
round-faced 13-year-old in the footage as Chandler, still alive and well at 86
in Boca Raton, Fla.
Kurtz calls Chandler “the Rosetta Stone. He
made the film legible.”
The day the two men met was “the break in the
case.”
Kurtz decided immediately to scrap the novel
he had been working on and take leave from teaching at NYU to devote himself
full time to identifying people in the Nasielsk footage.
Like many Holocaust survivors, “Mr. Chandler
didn’t tell his family much about what he’d endured,” says Kurtz. The sole
member of his family to survive the war, “he was a kind of Adam figure to them,
seeming as if he had come from nowhere. He had nothing to show, not one
photograph. It was such an extraordinary moment when he said to me: 'Now I can
show my family that I didn’t come from Mars.’”
Chandler’s flood of memories led Kurtz to
“find eight other Nasielsk survivors, all of whom had fled to Soviet-occupied
Poland during the war.”
Kurtz eventually identified dozens more people
through interviewing descendants on research trips to England, Canada, Poland
and Israel.
In October Kurtz led a Kickstarter-funded trip
of 50 people to Nasielsk, including numerous people with family roots there. He
hopes to turn the trip into a documentary.
Kurtz says he has never felt very religious,
but “does feel connected to a Jewish disposition, if there is such a thing
culturally. There is a kind of Talmudic quality to the research I did, going
over these documents again and again to learn what secrets they might still
contain.”
He doesn’t have an easy answer for why this
old snippet of film took hold of him with such intensity.
“I felt an urgency because time is running
out. I kept thinking it’s still possible that people are alive to whom I can
show these images and give something of their lives back to them. That’s a
tremendous gift to be able to give someone.”
Individual lives
Swift says the Holocaust Museum “considers
collecting this kind of footage of prewar Jewish life in Europe to be of
paramount importance. People might think the museum’s archive is just about
Hitler, but in fact it is foremost about the victims’ perspective and what
happened to various real individuals.”
The film’s ordinariness is in fact “integral
to its historical value,” she says. “It’s the same kind of film that today we
shoot all the time of our kids. It is just everyday life and nothing special —
that is, until you know what happens just afterwards.”
Jessica Zack is a freelance writer.
Rescuing the Evidence: Three Minutes in
Poland: The United
States Holocaust Memorial Museum presents a free presentation with archival
film clips by Glenn Kurtz and Leslie Swift. 7 p.m. Monday, Nov. 17. The Jewish
Community Library,1835 Ellis St., S.F. (310) 556-3222. western@ushmm.org.
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