Paul Walter Lavender

Harper: Hello. How are you doing?
LAVENDER: How do you do.

Harper: Could we begin by you telling us your name?
LAVENDER: Certainly. My name is Paul W. Lavender, like the color lavender. The W stands for Work. No, that’s a joke. It actually stands for Walter, but basically that used to be my middle name all my working life.

Harper: Can you tell us where and when you were born?
LAVENDER: I was born on February 10, 1911 in Kassel, which is in Hessen, Germany.

Harper: Can you tell us about your family here — your father, mother?
LAVENDER: Yes. Actually my name was Lewandowski. I changed it when I came to the United States to Lavender. Lewandowski is a famous name in Jewish music for two reasons. There’s Louis Lewandowski who was a composer and Manfred Lewandowski who was a hazzan [cantor] in the greatest German Friedenstempel [Temple of Peace] in Berlin. What else?

Harper: What about your father?
LAVENDER: My father was Jacob Lewandowski. He was the seventh child of 12 children, and I was the fourth child of his being my father. In other words, we had a big family, most of whom I unfortunately did not know since I was born when my father was 50, and I was sort of an afterthought by the family. Already most of them had gone into the beyond before me. My mother was Lena Lewandowski. Her maiden name was Mecca [spells out]. That name used to be Meckow, but shortened. I have a brother, Hans Wolfgang Lewandowski, who unfortunately disappeared in the concentration camp during the Holocaust. My mother also disappeared unfortunately in another camp, so from all I know, when they were picked up in Holland where they had gone to, they were put into different concentration camps. I had a sister who died, however, when I was five years old, which was a great loss to my parents. 

I went to school in Germany, naturally, and I saw very early, already in the ’20s, the trend that Germany was taking. The reason I felt it was that Jewish boys in the school to which I went were very often beaten up just for no reason whatsoever, and the teachers stood on the sideline and they’d do nothing. Therefore, I actually had the intention to leave Germany in 1927. When I was 16 years old, I wrote to a cousin who was vice president of Macy’s in New York. I was interested in the retail business. However, he said, “What are you worrying about? Everything is beautiful.” So that chance was not open for me. I worked six years in Germany in a department store, and I was slated to be one of the responsible people in the management of the department store, but things turned out different. 

I was transferred to Wiesbaden in 1930, I think it was, and it was there where I met my present wife, my only wife. However, I also was a buyer for a branch store of the same concern in Koblenz, and I was supposed to work there. This happened exactly when Hitler came to the ruling party in Germany, and therefore, naturally, my success there was nil. Luckily, I was eventually fired from my job because I was a Jew. At that time, naturally, I was very unhappy, but looking back, it was the best day of my life because that gave me a chance to get out of Germany. I went to Holland, which was possible at that time — it was 1933 — and started to live in Amsterdam.

Harper: I want to get some more details about your family before we go on. We need to move the microphone down a little bit. It’s too loud. Can you tell me what your father did for a living?
LAVENDER: My father was retired when Hitler came to the government. However, he was still living during the period of 1933 to 1936, and he saw some of the things that were developing to happen. In his productive years he was a manufacturer. Rather, he bought raw sheep wool, washed it, and then sold the wool to spinners. Quite a different position than most people have, I think.

Harper: Did he own the business?
LAVENDER: He owned the business. Correct. However, he had a partner, and they didn’t get along too well. During the inflation, my father, not knowing the results of that terrible situation when the stock market collapsed, sold his part to his former partner, and the money was so devaluated that he really got nothing out of it. My mother bought maybe three pairs of hosiery out of the money that he got because the devaluation was so terrible. One mark eventually became — one billion marks were one mark. It’s hard for anybody to visualize this.

Harper: What did your mother do for a living?
LAVENDER: My mother was just a housewife. She took care of us children. Naturally, when my older brother was living at home, I was small, so I don’t remember. However, one thing I want to bring out at this particular point [is] that my brother was 18 years old in 1914, and he didn’t want to go to the army. But my father and mother said, “You are a German. This country gives us a good living. We can live here, and you go to the army.” My father signed him up and he had to go. My brother was much more looking into the future. He said, “It’s much smarter if you take your money and put it into Switzerland, and we all go there instead of me fighting for the German army.” But it didn’t go that way.

Harper: So your brother joined the army?
LAVENDER: My brother joined the army; he was four years in the war. He was 18 years, [but] he got gray hair because of the worries; his hair changed from black to gray. One good thing was, at that time, the camera was a new development, and my parents had given him a camera to take along and all the other soldiers were eager to be photographed. He made prints of other people by taking pictures and they could send the pictures home. Also he played the piano and the violin. One day while he was walking in Bucharest, or someplace where the Germans had occupied the country, he met a former classmate. He greeted him and said, “My God, what are you doing here?” He said, “I’m in the army. What are you doing?” “Basically I take care of the horses.” He said, “I have a little influence. I’ll get you to be in the entertainment business.” So he switched him from the horse stable to the bars, restaurants, whatever they used in those days, and life was a little easier for my brother.

Harper: Can you tell us a little bit about your grandparents, your father’s parents?
LAVENDER: My father’s parents, I didn’t know. They were dead before I was born. As I say, I was born when my father was 50, but they were hazzans mostly. My grandfather was a hazzan, and his brother Louie was the composer I talked about. My grandmother, I don’t know anything about it. Her maiden name was Diamond. When I came to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where we first stayed with my relatives, I met some members of the Diamond family. They lived in Pittsburgh.

Harper: Do you know where your grandparents grew up? What they did for a living?
LAVENDER: As I say, my grandfather was a hazzan, and all the sons were very musical. I remember that when we had visitors, one brother or another would come to visit us. They would sing from opera. Now the grandparents on the other side — my mother’s parents — I knew. My grandfather died when I was I think five years old, but I remember him. He was in the grain business. He sold and bought grain. My grandmother was still living when my wife came to meet my parents. A terrible thing happened while my wife was visiting with my parents; my maternal grandmother died the same day.

Harper: Your family, were you religious growing up?
LAVENDER: I’m glad you asked that because my father was religious and my mother was not. So there were two trends in the family. My older brother more or less took after my mother. He was not very religious. While I also, being married to a woman who was more religious, have been more religious in my lifetime.

Harper; Did your family go to shul on a regular basis?
LAVENDER: My father on holidays, yes; they went to shul. My father, I remember was sitting in the front row of the temple with his white cap and colors, prayer books. I became a bar mitzvah. That’s my greatest achievement. 

Harper: But it was only for holidays that you went?
LAVENDER: That’s correct.

Harper: Did you keep the Sabbath in your home?
LAVENDER: No. 

Harper: Kosher?
LAVENDER: Kosher, no.

Harper: Do you know if your grandparents were?
LAVENDER: I would say my father’s parents would have been because they were hazzans, so that life is connected with these types of things.

Harper: What was your neighborhood like that you grew up in? Did you live in a Jewish area?
LAVENDER: No. Ghetto was not known in my days. People lived where they wanted to live, where they could afford to live. We lived in an apartment in an apartment house, on the second floor, and we had to walk up the stairs. There was no elevator. We had what they call a hinterhaus, which means a yard in back of the house where we could play as children. We were safe there.

Harper: Could you elaborate a little bit more about your brothers and sisters? I’m not quite sure. You said you had many, but you didn’t ….
LAVENDER: I had two brothers; one was a twin and one who unfortunately was killed in the concentration camp. The other brother is an older brother, whom I told you about, had to go to the army, but he — when the Nazis started, as you know, I went to the United States. When the Nazis went into Holland, he, being a writer, writing against the Nazis, had to flee every time they were in the neighborhood, so he fled from Holland to France — to the southern part of France — because the Germans had occupied only the northern part of France. But eventually they filtered down to the south, to Lyon, where he, his wife, and two children lived. At that time he had to flee over the mountains into Switzerland. Fortunately, being an intellectual, they permitted him to stay. He lived in a home for several years until they finally let him free and he could live freely the way he does now. He’s now in Switzerland ever since that time, which was 1943. He’s now 97 years old and in good physical condition. He still has a sound mind. It’s quite amazing, after having lived a life of fleeing from the enemy to still have the strength to be alive and enjoy living.

Harper: What was your schooling like? Did you go to a Jewish school?
LAVENDER: No. We had maybe a religious school just for religion, but not for learning. I went to the alte gymnasium, which means a school where we learned first French, then German and Latin. I went to school there four or five years. I didn’t finish school because I liked retailing, and I wanted to get in the business and learn the trade.

Harper: How old were you when you did that?
LAVENDER: I was 16 years old at that time.

Harper: And was that acceptable to do when you reached a certain age? Were you allowed to …?
LAVENDER: You were permitted unless you wanted to go to college, and then you would finish three more years. My twin brother did finish three more years in school. In other words, he made his abitur [school-leaving exam and university entrance qualification].

Harper: Where did you start working, and what were you doing?
LAVENDER: I started as a stock boy at Leonhard Tietz, which was one of the largest department chains in Germany, and worked myself up to salesman, which was not easy in those days. I remember that in order to make a living we had a quota; we really had to invisibly fight for the customer. We never could show that we were running towards them because when they came around the corner we acted as if nothing had happened, but everyone wanted to get that particular customer because there weren’t too many. We made a living by being paid for whatever we sold.

Harper: You said you were transferred to Wiesbaden?
LAVENDER: That’s correct. I was transferred to Wiesbaden after I had finished my apprenticeship and was two years as a salesman. When I came to Wiesbaden I felt I was not really working; I was living in a spa. I really enjoyed myself by working. The city is so beautiful, and the surroundings make you so happy.

Harper: What did your parents think of you moving away?
LAVENDER: Oh, that was no problem whatsoever. The only thing is I met a Jewish girl in Wiesbaden who was born there, and when I fell in love with her my parents weren’t too happy about it because they felt I was too young to marry. We did not get married yet. I left Wiesbaden after two years, via Koblenz for a short period of time, and then went to Holland. Now the committee for Jewish [Dutch word] as they say in Dutch, for people who were leaving their country was one basic rule: you could not work. Holland wouldn’t permit anybody in unless you say you won’t make a living there. So you had to tell them, “Ach, I don’t need any money. Why should I work?” To keep them happy, they accepted those knowing that everybody my age, 20 years old, wouldn’t have a fortune to live on.

Harper: Why did you decide to leave Germany?
LAVENDER: I decided to leave Germany, as I said, very early because I didn’t like the people, and I saw the antisemitism brewing. Now there’s a good reason, as I found out recently, that Kassel is one of the hot beds of Nazism. I didn’t know that then when I lived there, but I felt it. The fact is something I didn’t know until recently either, that the Kristallnacht was one day early in Kassel because the Nazis tried it out, so to speak, to see how it would work. That shows the reliance they had on the antisemites in their own town. There were two children who were beaten up during the intermission in school, things of that nature. I wanted to get out as long as I can remember. 

Harper: Do you remember when you first heard of the Nazis and of Hitler?
LAVENDER: Oh, yes. I heard of the Nazis in 1923 through the Hitler Putsch [coup], when he was taken prisoner and unfortunately was soon released. The beginning of Nazism actually was in 1923. Unfortunately, the Jewish people didn’t manage to [inaudible], but they should have. They saw [inaudible] go by, get better. But it didn’t go by and it didn’t get better.

Harper: Did your parents think it would blow by?
LAVENDER: My mother went to Holland together with my twin brother because they knew they couldn’t live in Germany. However, they didn’t realize that Hitler would march into Holland, also. It was really like a cat-and-mouse game. Hitler let the Jews go. Then he got to Holland and he got them in again.

Harper: I’m interested in knowing about how you and your family began to recognize the political problem, and how your family — your mother and your twin brother — decided to leave, and how you decided to leave, and why Holland. And what your wife thought.
LAVENDER: The reason I went to Holland was quite an interesting one. A friend of mine, whom I met on the street, told me that his brother’s going to take him by car to Holland. He asked me if I wanted to come along. I said that’s just what I want, so we drove in a car to Holland. We went over the border, was no problem. I started living in Amsterdam. 

I had to make a living, so I saw one day that there’s a company in Holland, which sells coffee and tea. I went in the store and said, “Would you need a salesman to sell these things for you — on the road to private people?” He said, “We sell it to you wholesale. What you do with it is your business.” So I started by two ounces of tea and two pounds of coffee. I bought myself a bike, and I went into the district where the new Jewish emigres lived. The richer ones lived in a very nice neighborhood. I rode out there, started ringing doorbells, and I remember the first time I pushed the button, I said, “I hope to God nobody answers.” You know, you’re very nervous. But a very nice woman answered, she bought her pound of coffee and an ounce of tea from me, and I’ve been selling ever since.

Harper: Were you involved with the Jewish community in Holland at all?
LAVENDER: No, not in Holland. I was connected with the Jewish community in my youth. Matter of fact, I had forgotten until you asked. We had a school of Jewish learning, and I was very active there. We had two trends; one was what they called the [inaudible, German word?] was where the Jews who believed that Germany was the place to be in spite of Hitler. The other were Zionists who wanted to go to Israel, at that time Palestine. There were factions and frictions. I remember usually when there were problems they called me in because I had the capability of smoothing people down and creating a peaceful relationship.

Harper: While you were in Holland, did you have close contact with your family?
LAVENDER: I lived in Amsterdam; my mother and brother lived in Amstelveen, which was a small town. My other brother lived in Utrecht. In other words, we did not really live in the same town.

Harper: How did the other members of your family decide to come to Holland?
LAVENDER: They realized that they couldn’t live any longer in Germany, so my brother went to Amstelveen and he got a job as an engraver in a textile factory. He was very artistic — he engraved plates with designs — and my mother came to live with him. I had an older brother, however, who moved to Holland in 1926, long before Hitler, because he had friends there. They asked him to come live there, and he was in the book trade. He made a living writing and dealing in books.

Harper: Why did your father stay behind?
LAVENDER: My father died shortly after we were married. He saw Hitler coming but fortunately did not experience it.

Harper: Did your mother then leave Germany after his death?
LAVENDER: It was after his death, yes. 

Harper: What did you hear about the rise of the Nazis, while you were in Amsterdam?
LAVENDER: That’s a very good question because even there we heard over the radio the speeches of Hitler, day and night, screaming. We saw young boys with armbands with the swastika. In other words, there again, I had the feeling this is not the place. I felt it was much too close to Germany. So I said to my mother and brother, “I want to go to America.” They said, “What for? We’re here, safe here in Holland.” I said, “I don’t feel safe.” Naturally I didn’t know that Germany would invade Holland, but still there was that feeling of not trusting the situation. So I went while my brother and mother stayed, unfortunately.

Harper: What year did you leave?
LAVENDER: I left Holland in 1937, came to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where my relatives lived. They had given me an affidavit. They were very nice. I stayed about a week with my aunt, but then after a week, I sort of felt they wouldn’t mind if I moved on. Fortunately I got a job as a stock boy in a department store, so I was able to have a little income. We were able to take a room on the third floor in somebody’s apartment where we slept and cooked.

Harper: I’m interested in how you felt about, and what you heard about the Nazis 
coming to power and the Nuremberg laws, Kristallnacht, things like this. Did you hear about them in Amsterdam, and were you concerned?
LAVENDER: Those things all happened when we were already in the States. Kristallnacht happened while we were already in the States. I was president of the Friendship Club in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. In other words, we had a group of newcomers who got together. I remember that we had a newspaper, and I wrote in the paper telling the American people of the dangers that were lurking. They accused me of warmongering. In other words, they didn’t understand the situation either. Eventually, unfortunately, I was proven right.

Harper: The things that happened in ’33 through ’35, like the Nuremberg Laws, was that big news in Amsterdam? Were people concerned? Were you concerned?
LAVENDER: I would say I didn’t know much about it. You see, I was away from it, so I didn’t care what happened there in Germany. I had started a business. I worked day and night, and during the day I travelled. I eventually got a bicycle with three wheels — I still couldn’t afford the fourth wheel — and I could deliver my groceries in them. When I had time, I did my bookwork at night. Very often my wife had to wake me up and put me to bed because I fell asleep over the bookwork, which as most people know, can take most of your time.

Harper: So you and your wife came to the United States on an affidavit in ’37?
LAVENDER: That’s correct. We got married in Amsterdam in 1935.

Harper: Was it a Jewish wedding?
LAVENDER: It was a Jewish wedding. My brother and brother-in-law were there and my mother, my in-laws. The rabbi who married us was also caught in the Holocaust. He did not survive.

Harper: Before we talk about your life in the United States, can you tell us what exactly happened to the members of your family and also your wife’s family?
LAVENDER: Yes. My wife left her parents behind, but we had hardly put our feet on the ground in the States when they wrote a letter, “You’d better get us to America because if you don’t we have to open the gas and kill ourselves.” We ourselves had hardly had all feet on the ground, were hardly able to make a living. We sent the papers to them, and they came over in time before America entered the war. After that, on the 7th of December, 1941, all traffic between the countries was eliminated.

Harper: And how about your family?
LAVENDER: My family, I talked about it. My mother and brother were killed; my older brother is now in Switzerland. I had one aunt who was also killed in Auschwitz.

Harper: Now your mother and brother, were they arrested shortly after the Nazis invaded Holland? Do you know exactly what happened?
LAVENDER: That’s correct. We only know what the Red Cross has reported. And apparently the book I showed you. This was [German word]. In Kassel they also got the information from the Red Cross. One thing about the Germans, they always kept a book of everything. They killed somebody who [inaudible].

Harper: All the information you know is that they just disappeared, you don’t know where they went?
LAVENDER: No, I have no information.

Harper: Do you have any idea of when they were picked up?
LAVENDER: Oh, yes. The year was 1941. One interesting thing I wanted to mention — before we came over, my wife had also some Dutch relatives and she talked to them there and said, “Why don’t you go to America where it is safer?” As a matter of fact, he was connected with the Lever Brothers, which was a large concern in the world, and he had a high position there. He could have very easily been transferred to New York, but he said, “Nothing will happen here in Holland.” In Holland they had the same idea they had in Germany: “Nothing will happen.” People just simply couldn’t see it. For some reason or another, I did see it.

Harper: When you came here, were you in regular correspondence with your family?
LAVENDER: As I say, after 1941 there was no chance.

Harper: Before 1941?
LAVENDER: Before? Yes, certainly. I think we told them that there was a baby on the way, our first baby, and that’s the last thing they heard or we heard from them.

Harper: And one day the letters just stopped coming?
LAVENDER: That’s right.

Harper: When you were in this country and you heard about the things like Kristallnacht and then the breakout of the war, could you elaborate more on that? You said you did some writing.
LAVENDER: Naturally, whatever happened, we were affected by it. Shortly before the war broke out, we got letters from all over the world, people who we didn’t know who wrote. Some people wrote to somebody with the same name. Say the name was Mendelssohn, they wrote to all the people who have a name Mendelssohn and asked them if they couldn’t help them to come over. But mostly it was too late. Some people did. I know of some cases where people wrote to seven to eight people and they got two responses, and one of them brought them over to this country.

Harper: So you received letters?
LAVENDER: The club did, the club that I was the president of. We received letters and it was too late to help. Mostly the people saw it much too late, and it really was in front of their eyes, but it was too late.

Harper: Why don’t you tell us more in detail about your life in Pittsburgh, and how you got out here.
LAVENDER: I worked in the department store, and at that time it was very difficult to get jobs. It was right after the Depression, but I had a cousin who knew somebody, and in this world, unfortunately, you need to know somebody to get somewhere. So he got me a job in the department store as a stock boy. It was not a steady job; it was just an extra job. The floor manager asked me to clean up a certain stock room with groceries, which I did. I took off my jacket and lined up everything the way it was supposed to be, and when he came to check my work he was so astonished he said, “Are you a regular?” So I had a steady job and stayed there for six years, later transferring to the silverware department, which had been my basic business in Germany. When I started out, I had silverware, housewares, China, glass, gifts, things of that nature. Somehow I drifted back into my field. 

My wife worked for a furniture store. However, I must say her first job was somewhat different. While I had a job in the department store, she was a short order cook in a drugstore. One day she saw something crawling up and down the wall when she was cooking soup, and some of these little things plopped into it. When she told her boss what happened there, he said, “Oh, that’s just meat.” Actually it was cockroaches. So my wife couldn’t hold that job very long because she didn’t agree with her boss. So she quit. Her second job was in the fur business, where she was sewing furs together. Most of the needles went into her fingers more than the skins, so that wasn’t good either. But then she got a job, which I started to tell you about, in a furniture store. At that time she made $12 a week, 50 cents for dinner, and she had to work overtime two or three times a night for 50 cents. 

One of the jobs was to go to the steel company — Pittsburgh was famous for its steel. They had these open bessemers which were burning day and night. At night you could always see the fires. She had to stand in front of one of those companies and say, “Come to this and this company, and pay your monthly payment on your furniture.” So she collected the weekly payments that the workers owed on their furniture. She was there for quite a while and enjoyed it because it was bookkeeping. 

Basically, my wife was trained as a foreign correspondent. She was a translator for German, English, and Spanish in a chemical company. As a matter of fact, this chemical company that she worked for today is Hoechst, which is the greatest chemical company in the world. It was bought up by Hoechst. They were very happy with her until the Nazis came and made it difficult. They destroyed the work she had done. After she had typed something, somebody tore it up, things of that nature. They were complaining that, “We don’t want to work with that Jew girl.” The boss said, “You find me somebody who can do the job, and I’ll hire that person.” 

Nevertheless, first they put her in a closed room so she would be protected, but eventually like everything else — one day somebody called her a dirty Jew and spit at her, and she spit back. Naturally, that wasn’t the most diplomatic thing to do. In the evening somebody called her: “You spit on a high person in the party, and they’re going to get you in the morning.” Her father called a friend who had an export business, and he had to go to Holland, so he took her along in the truck and took her over the border. That’s how she got out of Germany.

Harper: Were you involved in the Jewish community in Pittsburgh?
LAVENDER: Not basically. We had to learn English. We knew some English, but we had to perfect our language, so what we used to do is go to the Reform temple in Pittsburgh, where Rabbi Friedhoff— who was a spectacular speaker — was a rabbi, and we went there to learn the language. We also attended services [laughs]. We were not the religious type.

Harper: How did you get out to Portland? Why did you come here?
LAVENDER: That’s a very good idea. After I worked at the Gimble Brothers and the war broke out, I got my papers after five years of being in this country. I got the papers on Friday, and on Monday I applied for a defense job, which I couldn’t do before, and they sent me out to the shipyard. At that time they had an opening for a welder, so I would take anything even if I was not very handy. While I was trying to learn to weld, an office manager came by and saw me, and he somehow figured out that I wasn’t the type for that. He asked me, “Can you do something else?” I said, “Anything.” He said, “Would you like to do some bookkeeping for me?” I said, “Like it? I’d love it!” 

I started working there and worked all through the war, worked about 12-15 hours a day because we had to build these ships, and I took care of the payment. It was the first time actually I saw some money, which was very good. After the war was over, I wanted to leave Pittsburgh anyway because at that time it was a very dirty city. Today they cleaned it up. I remember when the kids were in the park playing barefoot, they would have black feet all the time when they would come home. So I took a plane to Portland; I knew one man here in Portland, had corresponded. He gave me a list of people I could see. I started at A and ended at Z, which is Zell Brothers, the last in the alphabet, and I got a job there. I’ve been there after that 34 years.

Harper: And you have children?
LAVENDER: My children — the oldest married rather early, had a baby. Her husband was a professor of chemistry. He made his degree while they were living in Pennsylvania, and gradually he also signed up for the war. Everybody thought he was very foolish to volunteer for the army, but he and a friend on a dare signed up, which was done quite often. But sometimes things work out well. He served in the navy before the war, and when the war broke out his tour of duty was completed, and he was out of the navy and didn’t have to shoot. 

My younger daughter made her degree in speech therapy and still is in that field. She takes care of handicapped children. She has a very good job. It’s very demanding. After she got married she unfortunately got divorced; however, she’s managing pretty well.

Harper: Where do your children live?
LAVENDER: My oldest daughter is in Tempe, Arizona, and she is a travel agent now, has her own business. The nice thing about the travel business is you can travel a lot at the cost of the airlines. That’s what she does. I don’t think you can make too much money in the travel business, basically because the percentages are too small, but she has a good time and enjoys herself. 

Harper: And your younger daughter?
LAVENDER: My younger daughter has now a daughter, age of 16. In January we went down to attend a sweet-16 party she gave for her. She’s a charming little girl. We have invited them to go with us to Alaska in July coming, taking one trip by air and the other half on the boat. Both of them need a vacation; they both work very hard, so we try to help them.

Harper: Did you send your children to religious school? Did they have a religious upbringing?
LAVENDER: No. My oldest daughter, matter of fact, had no liking. She had quite a bit of unhappy experiences when she grew up — Jewish boys who did not act very Jewish — and she was very disappointed. I remember one time she called me, “Daddy, can you pick me up? This guy I have a date with, he says if you don’t perform you might as well walk.” And that’s another story, unfortunately.

Harper: Have you been back to Germany?
LAVENDER: We went to Germany for the first time just during this June. My wife, as you know, was born in Wiesbaden, and the city of Wiesbaden invites 20 people every year to make good some of the damage that was done so long ago. My wife was originally very much against it. She said, “I don’t want to go to Germany. I don’t want to take their [inaudible].” But somehow the family convinced us, since it was given to us, you might as well go and enjoy it. I must say that the city of Wiesbaden did the most unbelievable things for us, trying to really make us feel better. They cannot make good, but they can improve a little on the situation. One thing that I told my wife, “You must remember these people that do that, they had nothing to do with it. It was their parents, not them.” 

We had an excellent time. They entertained us. Every day they took us to another city. For example, one day we went to Worms, which is a little city not too far away from Wiesbaden. Worms used to be one of the largest Jewish cities in Germany, but after the Holocaust, today, there’s not one Jew living in the city. They do have a museum, however, and there’s a gentile lady who tells about all these things. She somehow learned her profession by Jews coming there and telling her, and improving her pronunciation of Hebrew and things of that nature. We also saw the cemetery there. Naturally, when you go on these trips you see a lot of cemeteries because we go there really as representatives of the people who died and can’t go. That’s the basic explanation in my mind. We don’t really go for us; we go for them. That cemetery is one of the very few that was not destroyed by the Nazis for some reason or another. We saw some graves from the 14th century. But this was just one phase of it. 

They not only took us to places, we went to the synagogue there. We were invited. The synagogue used to be one of the most beautiful synagogues in Wiesbaden. It was, naturally, burned out. Now they have a synagogue in the back of a house for protection because they don’t want to have it too obvious for people who may not agree. That congregation invited us not only for the service, but they even served us a dinner after the service. Everybody was absolutely out of this world trying to make our stay there beautiful, and they certainly did. 

Then we went to the opera. They had tickets for the two of us. At that time they gave The Walküre [The Valkyrie] by Richard Wagner, which my wife loves very much. She expressed the desire to go on that particular evening to the opera and said, “I want to buy some tickets.” So the leader who was responsible for this whole trip said, “Just wait a half an hour and we’ll see what we can do.” After half an hour she brought us a pair of tickets for Saturday night for the The Walküre. We sat in the loge, where the Kaiser used to sit, in the beautiful center loge of the theater. I felt that something I had that the Kaiser doesn’t have, that I was able to be there and be alive while he is buried someplace. 

Harper: Did you get an opportunity to go back to your hometown?
LAVENDER: No. I did visit my hometown about 10 or 12 years ago because I wanted to see the grave of my father. As I told you, he died a natural death. My brother and I, shortly after we heard about the death of my mother and brother, had a plaque made and put next to my father’s grave saying that this is in memory of my mother and brother. Kassel is not in quite the same circumstances as Wiesbaden. Wiesbaden invited us for two weeks, all expenses paid. Kassel told us if I fly over there, they would give me a hotel room for three nights. We felt that after two weeks we didn’t want to do anymore, so this time I did not visit Kassel.

Harper: [to other interviewer] Do you have any questions?
Kettler: I want to go back a little bit to the beginning.
LAVENDER: Sure. I’d like to go back.

Kettler: Do you remember the address of where you lived when you were young?
LAVENDER: Yes. It was Hohenzollern Strasse 88 [says number in German]. Hohenzollern was the house of the Kaiser, emperor. It was the house of Hohenzollern, and we lived on that street. 

Kettler: Can you spell that?
LAVENDER: Hohenzollern Strasse 88 [spells out].

Kettler: Was it a house, or was it an apartment?
LAVENDER: It was an apartment.

Kettler: You mentioned that your sister died when you were five years old. What did she die of?
LAVENDER: Yes, I’m very glad you asked that. It was the war. She died in 1915. The war started in 1914 until ’18. She had appendicitis, and in those days they didn’t have the medicine to save her. She died of poisoning by her appendix.

Kettler: Do you remember that?
LAVENDER: Very vaguely. I was only five years old.

Kettler: What was your brother’s name?
LAVENDER: My brother was Herbert. He wrote under various pseudonyms. Lee Van Dowski [also Dovski], in three parts. Because he came from Holland, he made his name look like a Dutch name. Lee Van Dowski and Lewan-Dovski. Naturally. His books he wrote in German. His books are in the Murhard Bibliotheck in Kassel, the library called Murhard. All his books are there. He was a friend of Herman Hesse, who also lived in Switzerland, and he has met quite some interesting people. 

When he started out in life, after he made his doctorate in the University of Bonn in philosophy, he went to Berlin and was connected with the movie industry. However, he was very straight-laced, I would say. They did things at the time that he didn’t care for, and rather than accepting them, he was eventually let go. He worked with Fritz Lang, who some of you might know. He was an excellent director. And another one, I can’t think of his name. If he had played the game right, he could have been probably in the movie industry today and a very rich man, which he never achieved.

Kettler: Does he have children?
LAVENDER: Yes, he has two children who hardly went to school because they had to leave Germany, Holland, then France. Finally he went to Switzerland in the ’40s, and they came only about eight or ten years later. They couldn’t get in until he established the possibility for them to come to Switzerland. My nephew, for example, in order to make a living, he sold stamps in the market, stamps that he had collected somewhere, to make a few dollars for the home. I heard later that they lived in a place where the floor was halfway broken up. They couldn’t afford anything better. They had to go between the pieces of wood to get wherever they wanted to go. These little details generally are not talked about, but being a refugee is not an easy thing. I must say, I had it pretty easy because I got a job. I was the envy of everybody. People all had to go peddling, sell something, which I did in Holland, as you know.

Kettler: So did he have two children?
LAVENDER: Yes, two children. The boy, by the name of Henry, married a Swiss girl, so he became a Swiss citizen. The girl met a man who gave her three children, but also was divorced, and she struggled very hard to bring them up, but somehow they did. One good thing is that they all live in Geneva, Switzerland, all in the same city. That’s something I can’t say [inaudible].

Kettler: [Inaudible]
LAVENDER: Yes, my twin brother’s name was Hans Wolfgang, which was the middle name of Mozart. My parents named him after. He was a very talented person; however, I remember when I asked him to come to America, he said, “If you get me a job, I come.” I should have said, “I got the job for you,” and get him. But hindsight is better than foresight, so I said, “How can I get you a job, you’re not here?” But he was timid.

Kettler: He wasn’t married?
LAVENDER: No. He took care of my mother. Actually, I would say, he sacrificed himself for her. I heard later that he could have gone to England somehow, or some other country, but he decided to stay with my mother. This is very commendable.

Interviewer: [Inaudible.]
LAVENDER: Yes, no. No [inaudible – chuckling].

Kettler: What year was it when [inaudible]?
LAVENDER: I think it was ’40? As early as ’37. One thing is that he was really talented. I told you he engraved plates for textile products, and he was an excellent photographer. I have still some of the pictures. He would sit there for hours to have a flower in focus, and then a butterfly would come onto it, and click it, things of that nature. He was more talented than I, but he didn’t make it.

Kettler: What year did you go to Holland?
LAVENDER: In 1933.

Kettler: So you were there for four years?
LAVENDER: I was there for four years and married for two years.

Kettler: What year was it when your father died?
LAVENDER: 1936. I couldn’t go back to Germany for the funeral. I wouldn’t dare. I remember I went to a synagogue in Amsterdam and said prayers.

Harper: You mentioned the 88 Kaiser Strasse. 
LAVENDAR: Hohenzollern.

Harper: Was that a Jewish neighborhood?
LAVENDER: No. There was no such thing. Jews lived everywhere, which was good. It was wonderful. We had, what do you call it, [inaudible] Deutsche Juden, which means an organization of Jewish-German Jews which was one side of the people’s thought. Then we had LSM, the Zionist organization, which was on the other side. I think I mentioned them earlier.

Harper: Do you know what the Jewish population of Kassel was?
LAVENDER: It’s in the book here somewhere. I don’t want to make a statement. I would say 30,000.

Harper: You mentioned that you were at school and saw some incident where you saw Jewish kids getting beaten up?
LAVENDER: Yes, I remember there was one particular boy whom they hated for some reason or another. At every intermission, when people were outside they would beat him up. I don’t know why otherwise. I didn’t have that problem, fortunately.

Harper: What percentage in the school were Jewish?
LAVENDER: Oh, very small percentage. 

Harper: Less than five percent?
LAVENDER: Yes.

Harper: You made specific reference to teachers who would just stand around. Could you or other students approach the teachers, or the principal?
LAVENDER: No, in those days — see, the whole Hitler era was possible only because everything was done in such a way that you couldn’t dare open your mouth. If you opened your mouth, you got what he got.

Harper: Did you talk this over with your parents? Did you mention this?
LAVENDER: Oh, yes, but I don’t think they took any action. I’d like to elaborate on this thing. People always ask, “How come you didn’t do anything against it?” You couldn’t. He was so smart the way he set things up. If you changed anything that he said intentionally, you were caught. You couldn’t dare. That’s also why there were few of the gentiles who really did something. There were a few. I was just reading a book about the Schindler boys. Mr. Schindler was in Poland, and he saved 1,500 Jews just by guts. He acted as a Nazi — he was a member of the Nazi party — and he befriended these people and gave them money and so on. He was able finally to save 1,500 Jews. After he saved them he was broke, and these Jews kept him alive until he died. There were two or three or four people like that, but generally speaking, very few.

Harper: Even in the school, there was a degree of fear both for you and the other students.
LAVENDER: Oh, yes. It was there. All the time we went to school. I remember one particular guy who was just terrible. That’s what ignited the flame in me to leave.

Harper: You were still in Germany when Hitler was elected chancellor?
LAVENDER: Yes. That was in 1933.

Harper: Do you remember what people were thinking, either in your family or neighbors?
LAVENDER: I couldn’t tell you that. He was elected on the 3rd of January, 1933. Then we had on the first of April, which was only three months later, the boycott day. They boycotted all the Jews. I remember that I had a visa for France, which I got in March. I had it in my pocket, but I didn’t use it. Somehow I didn’t go yet, but I was ready to go. That was very, very early. I remember that the American papers wrote about that Jews were hurt in Germany, and Hitler had forced the Jews to make a statement that this was all lies. It was untrue. Another thing is, I remember, when they said the Jews are not Germans, there was Woolworths. We had a Woolworths store in Koblenz where I worked. It was the only American store in the whole town, which should have been closed up, but they wouldn’t dare. Basically they said, “We close up because the Jews are not Germans.” Woolworths wasn’t German, either.

Harper: Could you elaborate on the specifics of the boycotts? Did you live near them, or Jewish shops?
LAVENDER: Yes. I don’t want to make a statement because I don’t quite remember what actually happened on that day.

Harper: You made the comment that when you were fired from the department store in Wiesbaden then you were free to go to Holland? Almost like hindsight [inaudible].
LAVENDER: A lucky day. 

Harper: Did other people you knew continue to have jobs?
LAVENDER: Actually it was happening all over the place. I do remember talking about the question you made, what happened on April the first. I remember that there was a stock boy in our store who went into the president’s office and said, “You get up; it’s my place now.” He actually sat down there. He said, “I’m in charge now.” Those things happened, and there was much recourse. All these things helped me to get out.

Harper: When you told about these incidents, like where your wife was spit at. The Germans, how did they …?
LAVENDER: You know, that’s an excellent question. When Hitler came, from one day to the next, the attitude changed. They wore swastikas, and they looked at you as if they’d never seen you before. Absolute melting of all culture in five minutes.

Kettler: When did you find out about the deaths of your mother and your family?
LAVENDER: After the war, the Red Cross. We inquired of the Red Cross, and they had the information. They sent it to us.

Kettler You said before you don’t know what really happened.
LAVENDER: You know, you’ve seen pictures. They either starved to death, burned in an oven…

Kettler: Did they take them to a camp?
LAVENDER: Oh, yes. They were in a concentration camp. Sure. One at Auschwitz and the other Sobibor. You die here or die there. Many, many people took their own lives because they knew what was coming. The interesting thing is that — I think it should be brought up — is that America acted as if nothing had happened. Somehow, even after the war, after the Nuremberg trials and so on, the State Department was much more friendly to the German Nazis than they were to the people here. There is hate in everybody somewhat, and they certainly brought it out. The people ask, “How come?” My wife told me she had a friend she talked to yesterday on the phone, was happy. The next day she said, “Who are you? I don’t know you.” The fear that they would have to pay for their character was so great that they would rather do what Hitler wanted them to do.

Kettler: When your children were growing up, did you tell them what had happened? Did they know the story?
LAVENDER: Oh, yes. I hear that some people can’t talk about it. I certainly talk about it. I feel they should know, and that’s why we talked to them often. The one thing we didn’t do, we didn’t talk German with them. We couldn’t bring our tongues to talk German. And yet when we came back, I hadn’t talked German in 60 years, it came back just like this. If you had seen me there, you would have thought I was a German.

Kettler: Did they marry in Jewish marriages?
LAVENDER: One did. The other did not. They are both divorced, so I couldn’t say who is the better of the two.

Harper: Did you file a restitution claim?
LAVENDER: Yes, that did happen. There was a lawyer here in Portland who specialized in this type of thing. I forget his name. He felt that he would finally get paid. They had put him in jail when he was in Germany. I don’t know if that had anything to do with the fact that he got so many Germans to be paid by the German government, or if it was something else. The one thing that happened, I must say, I would never, never have thought possible, that the German government would make restitutions to people. These restitutions have helped many, many people — Israel, all over the world, many people couldn’t live unless they had this help. That has happened, and I must say Germany has tried and is trying to make up for the things that have happened. This dastardly thing, the Holocaust.

Harper: [Inaudible, something about current day] Do you think that it’s a different story?
LAVENDER: I’m very glad you asked the question because it happened in Germany while we were there. I talked to people. There is the [furtherkreis?], a group of people made up of gentiles, people who are teachers, intellectuals, and we talked to them about it, and I must say they look very dark at the future. Because they try to work very hard to establish a pleasant situation. The [furtherkrei] in English means they try to promote knowledge among people. We went to the school where my wife went when she was a child, and one of the people of the [furtherkreis] had arranged to meet with some of the children in the school. 

I must say, the questions they asked, they still don’t know much about Jews. They have no concept of it. My wife told them that she went to school there 60 years ago. They said, “Did you live here?” They can’t imagine that we left at the time to come here, we just came back, and we wanted to tell them about it. They can hardly believe this. It’s beyond their conception. We tried to leave an imprint with them of what hate does. Hitler was a hater. I said, “Hate does not create anything, and sooner or later you will have to pay for it if you are a hater.” People in Germany paid a high price too, unfortunately. There are seven million people that died in the war, so it’s not just the people you hate, it’s you yourself who are the hater, create this for yourself. In other words, I tried to impress upon them to try to love your neighbor as yourself.

Harper: Do you have anything else you want to add?
LAVENDER: Usually these things come off camera. Some of the things that we experienced in Wiesbaden I told you about, but others I didn’t. This article that I wrote and sent to my friends has some aspects in it that I want to read to you about. We met Mrs. Martin Niemoller. Her husband was a pastor, a Christian preacher. The words that I’m going to read to you he expressed a long time ago. I think they in a way tell you what this was all about: “In Germany, they came first for the Communists, and I did not speak up because I was not a Communist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak up because I was not a Jew. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak up because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Catholics, and I did not speak up because I was a Protestant. Then they came for me, and by that time, no one was left to speak up for me.” 

We met his widow, his second wife, a very interesting person. She was on board with us when we traveled the Rhine to listen to the Lorelei. You may have heard of the famous poem by Heine about the girl that was sitting up there on the rock. She converted to Judaism. She’s a member of the Reform congregation Emanuel, in New York, one of the [inaudible]. She wears a chai this big, and we had some very interesting talks with her. She’s her own woman and I admire her greatly. That I wanted to tell you because people who know about Pastor Niemoller — mostly people who were in concentration camps certainly know about him — would appreciate it very much. 

Also we visited a small place near Wiesbaden where my wife’s mother was born. At that time it was called Comebad[?]. Today, it’s called Bad [Bad Schwalbach], which means spa, and we visited the house where her family had lived. At that time there was a hardware store. Even today there’s a hardware store in that building, but naturally under different management. We walked down the street towards the Jewish cemetery, which we wanted to visit. There opened a window on a house and an old, old lady looked out the window. I passed and said, “Why don’t I ask her how to get to the cemetery?” So I said, “Pardon me, can you tell me how to get to the cemetery?” “Sure. Go down this way.” 

Then I realized she was very old. I said, “My wife and I just came from the States to visit; we’re guests of the city of Wiesbaden. Would you happen to know her relatives, Mr. Lundorf?” “Sure. I knew him.” And she knew all the names and gave them to us, which was very interesting to me because that window opened just when we passed by. If we had passed by 30 seconds later, we wouldn’t have had that interesting conversation. I took a picture of her and just recently sent it to her. We found the cemetery. Unfortunately you have to get a key to get in, and they didn’t make arrangements, so we couldn’t actually visit the graves, but we saw them from the other side. 

Kettler: What else did you do?
LAVENDER: While we were in Wiesbaden, the people of [furtherkreis] told me about a book which was published in Kassel, my hometown. One of the girls wrote to Kassel, and yesterday afternoon, two hours before I came here, the book came, and there are all the names of the people who perished in the Holocaust. My mother’s and brother’s name as well as my aunt’s name is listed in here. Then I brought my own book which I published a couple of years ago. It’s called The Cry of the Humble. It’s a collection of vignettes. All different kinds of thoughts — philosophy, travel, romance, whatever — it’s in here.

Kettler: [Inaudible].
LAVENDER: It’s called The Cry of the Humble. It’s a word out of the Bible, but it sort of fit my intention of what I wanted to say. Let’s see. What else have I forgotten? Oh, yes. While we were in Wiesbaden we visited with some friends of ours. Many years ago — my wife, as I told you, is an opera buff, and she usually received people who came from other countries or other cities. She went to the airport and greeted them in German because many of them couldn’t speak English.

And at that time among many others, we met Mr. Manfred Schenk, who is today one of the leading bassos in the world. He sings in Bayreuth and we had an invitation from him and his wife, a very charming woman, to visit in Mistelbach, which is a little town. The town is beautifully located, and we spent two days there with them, playing his records and enjoying the nature. One thing about Germany you cannot take away is the beautiful landscape. If you could take the people out of the country, we probably would go there more often [laughs]. 

Let’s see. Yes, I wanted to talk a little bit about the synagogue in Wiesbaden. It was one of the most beautiful edifices you can find anywhere. They had an excellent rabbi, Dr. Latzos. 

While we were in Wiesbaden now we met a Dr. Lieberman, also a 90-year-old man — apparently everybody reaches 90 sooner or later — who is the head of the Krohn Synagogue, which is a very small synagogue, simple, so it doesn’t cause any adverse attention. He was a dentist before he left Germany. I forget now where he went. But in 1945 after the war, he went back to Germany, and I could never understand why anybody would go back to Germany. But he said he made his dentist license in Germany many years ago, went away. When he came back, he knew the only place where he could actually work was in Germany, because his license didn’t permit him to do so in any other country. Unless he makes a new test, and he was too old for that. So he came back to Germany and has been living there for quite a few years. For that particular reason, I was glad that I asked him because now I understand why he and many others came back.

Harper: Do you have a message or anything for the people of future generations when they watch this tape?
LAVENDER: Yes, I do. The message is always look 20 years ahead if you can. Don’t live from day to day because the developments come which are obvious in a way, but often we don’t see the indications. Antisemitism is something which has been here for thousands of years, and for some unknown reason, it will be with us for many years to come. 

Personally I feel that we should fight antisemitism by telling the gentile people that Jews have contributed tremendously to the welfare of humanity. Many people wouldn’t be alive today if some Jew hadn’t found some way of eliminating certain sicknesses. I don’t think we tell this very impressive story to the public. We should. I hear people say they think we are bragging. We are not bragging. It’s the truth, and somebody should really work on this so we can give it to somebody who asks, “What is Judaism? Why do they hate us?” You can work with it. I think we need material to do so. 

Basically, I’m against any division: religion, race, country, whatever you call it. I think the sooner we learn to give up all these individual types, shall we say, the better it would be. Hate is something that is put into us. A baby is not born with hate. A baby is born with love. But from the day one it hears, you’ve got to go to church, you’ve got to synagogue, you’ve got to do whatever it is, and you have to believe in this and believe in that. It’s all pretty good, but I think after 20 centuries we should have developed further in trying to do away with division and promote togetherness, understanding, love.

Harper: Thank you.
LAVENDER: Thank you.

[Inaudible exchange; static]

Harper: Can you tell us again what this book is?
LAVENDER: Yes. This is a summation of all the people who were in Kassel at one time or another. Some people who were born in Kassel, some who just lived there and disappeared. Fortunately, I looked for many names and could not find them. It’s indicated that those people did get away. This is a book only of those unfortunate people who were caught in the Holocaust.

Harper: Are your mother and brothers there?
LAVENDER: Yes, they’re in the book here. I will read it to you in a minute. [Long pause.] Caroline Lewandowski. My mother was known as Lina, but this is the way it was written in the birth register. She was born Mecca [spells out], and she was born on February 2, 1875 in Kassel. She married Mr. Jacob Lewandowski and lived in Kassel since that day at Hohenzollern Strasse 88. Later she moved with my brother to Hohenzollern Strasse 78. It probably was a smaller apartment. In 1939 she emigrated with my brother to Amstelveen in the Netherlands. 

My brother had a position there, and like so many German Jews who went around felt safe there. My brother’s name was Hans Wolfgang Lewandowski. The name Wolfgang was after Mozart, and he was born on the same day I was, February 10, 1911, also in Kassel. He lived there at the same address, naturally. My oldest brother went to Utrecht, which is listed here. I went to Amsterdam. 

In other words, we lived in three different cities while we were in Amsterdam. Unfortunately, I and my oldest brother were the only ones who realized that Holland was not the final place to live because the Nazism. [It] was too close to Germany.

Kettler,: [Inaudible.]
LAVENDER: This shows the group of people who came to Wiesbaden at the same time we were there. Most came from Israel, which is interesting to note. Many came from New York, or the neighborhood of New York. One party came from England, one from Belgium, one South America, and I think that is the group. They came from everywhere to gather there, and the mayor, who was most cooperative, had this picture taken of the group. The day we left he gave each one of us a copy of it. I incorporated it in this manuscript.

Kettler: This was in 1993?
LAVENDER: We went in 1993.

Kettler: So you just came back?
LAVENDER: Just came back.

Harper: Did you see anyone there that you knew from before?
LAVENDER: No. My wife, naturally, who was born in Wiesbaden, looked for people, but she didn’t find anybody. But a very interesting thing happened. We were interviewed by all the newspapers, and there was somebody who wrote her a letter. It turned out that this girl who wrote the letter recognized her from the picture and said, “You know, I sat next to you in grade school, and I remember you.” And she sent her a little poem she had written in this girl’s book as a remembrance of the years that they were together. And she sent a copy to us. Very interesting. We didn’t meet the woman, but she contacted us. So somebody recognized my wife after 60 years from the picture in the paper.

[Pause.] This says what I said before: “Returning from Wiesbaden we brought with us the knowledge that many forces are at work trying to prevent the happenings of 60 years ago to occur again. In my opinion, all this depends to a major extent how well democracy can cope with the many bullies trying to take over the world again.”

Kettler: [Inaudible].
LAVENDER: I sent it to all the people I know. But anybody who wants a copy, I give it to the organization [inaudible]. When she was young, she bought her books from a certain bookstore in Wiesbaden, very close to her home. When we were in Wiesbaden this time, she went into the store and looked around. Finally she opened up and told the owner that when the book burning happened in 1933, that the owner, who it turns out was the father of the present owner, called her and said, “Miss Rosenthal, I know you love to read. Rather than burning the books, I give you some of them.” She went and got books at that time which she took home. Also the present owner remembered that his father told him about it, that he had given some of the books to somebody who really appreciates them. As a memory of our visit now, he gave us a book entitled Wiesbaden. These things come up. What’s your name?

Kettler: Janice Kettler [spells out.]