rescuers of jews
Statauskas Jonas
Frida Glazman-Abramovich Tells About Herself And Alik Abramovich
Alik Abramovich and Frida Glazman-Abramovich
From: Smuggled in Potato Sacks
Fifty Stories of the Hidden Children of the Kaunas Ghetto
Editors
Solomon Abramovich and Yakov Zilberg
Alik was born on 9 May 1941 in Kaunas. His father Shlomo Abramovich moved to Kaunas from Klaipeda in a search for a work. His mother Feiga, née Kulbak, was an active member of the Lithuanian Communist Party. After the infamous Ribbentrop–Molotov Pact and the occupation of Lithuania by the USSR, she was appointed to be in charge of the big factory ‘Jega’, which means ‘Strength’ in Lithuanian.
When the Germans invaded Lithuania, the Abramovichs and their newborn son tried to escape by foot to Russia. They were captured by Lithuanians and forced to return to Kaunas. Shlomo was arrested, but the very brave Feiga went to the Gestapo, and by some miracle succeeded in releasing him.
Shlomo and Feiga decided immediately to join the anti-fascist detachment, but first they needed to find a safe place to hide their child. While they were looking for somebody they could trust, Brone Rosenbergiene, a Lithuanian worker in the factory and her husband Jonas, a shoemaker, managed to locate their old friends the Abramovichs in the ghetto, and together they started to plan Alik’s rescue.
Although Alik was not circumcised, it wasn’t an option to transfer him to the Rosenberg family because their neighbours were serving in the SS. Their close friend Marcele Galvonaite was afraid to keep Alik with her for the same reason.
After an intensive search, the Rosenbergs and Marcele Galvonaite found a safe place for Alik with Jonas and Stase Statauskas in the countryside. Marcele and Jonas Statauckas came to take Alik from the ghetto gates. Alik’s father (or, according to another version, a German soldier) smuggled Alik, wrapped in tatters, and gave him to the rescuers. When Alik was in safe hands, his parents joined the detachment. Shlomo was the first to escape from the ghetto. Feiga told me that she asked Chaim Elin’s help to reach the detachment. Elin said, ‘With your brains and energy you need nobody’s assistance.’ He was right, and very soon Feiga found her way to the forest.
Shortly before the liberation, Shlomo Abramovich was killed in battle, together with Yankale Levy.
The Statauskas couple paid the heaviest price for Alik’s rescue. When, after the liberation, Alik’s mother came to take him back, it became evident to all the villagers that Statauskas had harboured a Jewish boy. Feiga was sure it was very dangerous for the Statauskas family to stay in the village; she suggested that they should move with her to Kaunas. Sadly they refused and were killed by Lithuanian bandits, the ‘Zhaliukai’ in 1946.
After the war, Feiga married Naum Meriesh, who returned from Siberia, where he had been deported with his family before the war. After finishing school, Alik went on to study at the Kaunas Polytechnic Institute, but he did not complete his studies and returned to work in the factory.
I knew Alik from the Jewish kindergarten. We became close friends during our school days and in 1964 I married him. Our son was born in 1966 and was named Solomon (Shlomo) in memory of Alik’s father. It turned out that both of us were among the ‘hidden children’.
Before the war my parents lived in a small town, Semelishki near Kaunas. When the Germans entered Semelishki, where the majority of the population was Jewish, they and their Lithuanian collaborates killed every Jew they could find. My father, Shlomo Glazman, saw his parents and eldest brother Meir being shot. Later on, the whole town was set alight by the Lithuanians.
My parents, together with my maternal grandparents, fled to the forest. My mother, Katia (Kune) Glazman, née Kranik, was pregnant. I was born in a bunker in the winter of 1941/42; I actually don’t know the exact data of my birth.
A childless Polish-Lithuanian couple, Urshulya and Juozas Abukauskas, agreed to take care of me. Abukauskas baptized me and I received a false birth certificate in the name of Lalia Abukauskaite. After my grandparents died in hiding, my parents joined the detachment and fought from February 1942 till the liberation. (See Figure 15. Friqa Glazman is in the 2nd row, 1st from right).
In 1945 my parents collected me from my adoptive mother and father, whom I loved deeply. I was scared in my biological parents’ house. These ‘strangers’ had separated me from my beloved Urshulya and Juozas and forced me to live in a house where people talked a strange language. I could not eat and cried all the time, until Urshulya came to spend some time with our family, and eventually I became used to my biological parents. (See Figure 15: Frida Glazman is in the second row, first from right.)
In 1959 I entered the Kaunas Polytechnic Institute; I studied in the civil engineering faculty together with Ilana Kamber, Mika Karnovskaya, Sara Levin, Lyusya Borstaite and Aaron Frank. Only now do I know that all of them were also hidden children of the Kaunas Ghetto; we have never discussed this issue, neither with my schoolmates nor with my husband.
In 1972 after a long struggle against the Soviet authorities, which involved Alik’s travelling to Moscow to demand visas, we emigrated to Israel. I maintained contact with Urshulya’s family until our emigration in 1972; I always felt Urshulya was my mother and called her ‘Mochute’ – Mummy.
In Israel I worked as a civil engineer in the Ministry of Transport. I was actively involved in almost all the bridge and road construction projects in Israel for the last three decades. Alik was an extraordinary person: talented, with an excellent memory and broad knowledge – really a walking encyclopaedia. He was a natural leader, always surrounded by a lot of friends. But some self-destructive power caused difficulties and led him to failures in his professional and family life. In 1976 we divorced.
Our son served in the Israeli Air Force. Now he works in Israel in a high-tech firm. Alik married for a second time, but died from cancer when he was only 50 years old. Mariesh’s family supports his wife and twin children.
First published in 2011 by Vallentine Mitchell
London, Portland, OR
Alik Abramovich and Frida Glazman-Abramovich
From: Smuggled in Potato Sacks
Fifty Stories of the Hidden Children of the Kaunas Ghetto
Editors
Solomon Abramovich and Yakov Zilberg
Alik was born on 9 May 1941 in Kaunas. His father Shlomo Abramovich moved to Kaunas from Klaipeda in a search for a work. His mother Feiga, née Kulbak, was an active member of the Lithuanian Communist Party. After the infamous Ribbentrop–Molotov Pact and the occupation of Lithuania by the USSR, she was appointed to be in charge of the big factory ‘Jega’, which means ‘Strength’ in Lithuanian.
When the Germans invaded Lithuania, the Abramovichs and their newborn son tried to escape by foot to Russia. They were captured by Lithuanians and forced to return to Kaunas. Shlomo was arrested, but the very brave Feiga went to the Gestapo, and by some miracle succeeded in releasing him.
Shlomo and Feiga decided immediately to join the anti-fascist detachment, but first they needed to find a safe place to hide their child. While they were looking for somebody they could trust, Brone Rosenbergiene, a Lithuanian worker in the factory and her husband Jonas, a shoemaker, managed to locate their old friends the Abramovichs in the ghetto, and together they started to plan Alik’s rescue.
Although Alik was not circumcised, it wasn’t an option to transfer him to the Rosenberg family because their neighbours were serving in the SS. Their close friend Marcele Galvonaite was afraid to keep Alik with her for the same reason.
After an intensive search, the Rosenbergs and Marcele Galvonaite found a safe place for Alik with Jonas and Stase Statauskas in the countryside. Marcele and Jonas Statauckas came to take Alik from the ghetto gates. Alik’s father (or, according to another version, a German soldier) smuggled Alik, wrapped in tatters, and gave him to the rescuers. When Alik was in safe hands, his parents joined the detachment. Shlomo was the first to escape from the ghetto. Feiga told me that she asked Chaim Elin’s help to reach the detachment. Elin said, ‘With your brains and energy you need nobody’s assistance.’ He was right, and very soon Feiga found her way to the forest.
Shortly before the liberation, Shlomo Abramovich was killed in battle, together with Yankale Levy.
The Statauskas couple paid the heaviest price for Alik’s rescue. When, after the liberation, Alik’s mother came to take him back, it became evident to all the villagers that Statauskas had harboured a Jewish boy. Feiga was sure it was very dangerous for the Statauskas family to stay in the village; she suggested that they should move with her to Kaunas. Sadly they refused and were killed by Lithuanian bandits, the ‘Zhaliukai’ in 1946.
After the war, Feiga married Naum Meriesh, who returned from Siberia, where he had been deported with his family before the war. After finishing school, Alik went on to study at the Kaunas Polytechnic Institute, but he did not complete his studies and returned to work in the factory.
I knew Alik from the Jewish kindergarten. We became close friends during our school days and in 1964 I married him. Our son was born in 1966 and was named Solomon (Shlomo) in memory of Alik’s father. It turned out that both of us were among the ‘hidden children’.
Before the war my parents lived in a small town, Semelishki near Kaunas. When the Germans entered Semelishki, where the majority of the population was Jewish, they and their Lithuanian collaborates killed every Jew they could find. My father, Shlomo Glazman, saw his parents and eldest brother Meir being shot. Later on, the whole town was set alight by the Lithuanians.
My parents, together with my maternal grandparents, fled to the forest. My mother, Katia (Kune) Glazman, née Kranik, was pregnant. I was born in a bunker in the winter of 1941/42; I actually don’t know the exact data of my birth.
A childless Polish-Lithuanian couple, Urshulya and Juozas Abukauskas, agreed to take care of me. Abukauskas baptized me and I received a false birth certificate in the name of Lalia Abukauskaite. After my grandparents died in hiding, my parents joined the detachment and fought from February 1942 till the liberation. (See Figure 15. Friqa Glazman is in the 2nd row, 1st from right).
In 1945 my parents collected me from my adoptive mother and father, whom I loved deeply. I was scared in my biological parents’ house. These ‘strangers’ had separated me from my beloved Urshulya and Juozas and forced me to live in a house where people talked a strange language. I could not eat and cried all the time, until Urshulya came to spend some time with our family, and eventually I became used to my biological parents. (See Figure 15: Frida Glazman is in the second row, first from right.)
In 1959 I entered the Kaunas Polytechnic Institute; I studied in the civil engineering faculty together with Ilana Kamber, Mika Karnovskaya, Sara Levin, Lyusya Borstaite and Aaron Frank. Only now do I know that all of them were also hidden children of the Kaunas Ghetto; we have never discussed this issue, neither with my schoolmates nor with my husband.
In 1972 after a long struggle against the Soviet authorities, which involved Alik’s travelling to Moscow to demand visas, we emigrated to Israel. I maintained contact with Urshulya’s family until our emigration in 1972; I always felt Urshulya was my mother and called her ‘Mochute’ – Mummy.
In Israel I worked as a civil engineer in the Ministry of Transport. I was actively involved in almost all the bridge and road construction projects in Israel for the last three decades. Alik was an extraordinary person: talented, with an excellent memory and broad knowledge – really a walking encyclopaedia. He was a natural leader, always surrounded by a lot of friends. But some self-destructive power caused difficulties and led him to failures in his professional and family life. In 1976 we divorced.
Our son served in the Israeli Air Force. Now he works in Israel in a high-tech firm. Alik married for a second time, but died from cancer when he was only 50 years old. Mariesh’s family supports his wife and twin children.
First published in 2011 by Vallentine Mitchell
London, Portland, OR