Michael Bornstein

 Hi, and welcome to the Last Generation. I'm Maddie Kramer. In 2004, my grandma Susie passed away and I never got the chance to ask her how she survived the Holocaust. Growing up, she knew she was Hungarian. And that she survived the war, but not really how that impacted her life and how her own life impacted my mom's and even mine.

I wish I had the chance to know her more, learn her language, and really get to know her. Since 2017, I had an idea that I needed to bring families together to have the chance to talk to the grandparents and ask all the questions I couldn't. Because we are the last generation to get to know their stories for their life.

You are gonna hear an accent 'cause I was raised in Argentina where my grandma escape after the war. This season we will listen to Holocaust survivors being asked questions by their grandkids. I hope you enjoy listening to these families having the most wonderful conversations. I loved every second of it.

For most of us, our first four years of life are built with happy memories for Michael. Those memories are summarized in a picture with striped pajamas outside of Auschwitz. Michael and his three young children, Ali, jt, and Jack, talked about how education was vital for his family and even more after the war.

Michael decided to start talking about the Holocaust to remind us that this is still happening today to all kind of minorities around the world.

Only 52 children under the age of eight survive Auschwitz. Michael was one of them. He was only four years old when he was taken to the camp. He spent most of the time there hiding in the woman's room where his mom and grandmother protected him. Sadly, his father and brother didn't survive the war. After living for several years in displaced camps, Michael moved to New York at the age of 10.

It wasn't easy. He lived paycheck to paycheck, working for 25 cents an hour. To help his mom in any way he could. After so much hardship, he received a PhD and worked for companies such as Johnson and Johnson. Michael feels lucky that his mother was always looking forward to the future with optimism and emphasized how important education was.

He says that if he ever found himself face to face with a Nazi, he would like him to know that evil didn't win. The best revenge will be to let him know he live a life full of happiness. Uh, Papa, could you tell us again where you were born and what happened to you in Poland? I was born in 1940 and, uh, the Nazis actually invaded Poland and Cherokee in September 39.

My dates must be, might be wrong. I'm getting a little older so I forget, but. You know, it's close. And uh, so then we were in Sharky, which was an open ghetto. So you can go from house to house within a certain environment, location. And then, uh, uh, we were moved to, uh, pki, which is a labor camp. I was only four years old, so I didn't work much.

But, uh, we were in pki and then in, uh, a middle of 1944, uh, I was transported with my mother, my father, and my grandmother to Auschwitz concentration camp. We know that, um, like your parents probably told you a lot of like the information that you know, just because you were so young, but do you have any memories that you remember just from yourself or like any memories from Auschwitz?

Uh, I have very few memories from Auschwitz. Again, I was four years old. Uh, what. Some of my family members tell me is that I was in a children's bunk in Auschwitz and there were many children that were in one compartment. It was basically hardwood floor, and I was one of the youngest children. So the older children would.

I won't call it steel because we were all starving, but they would take some of my bread, so my mother. Would come in, she was in a women's bunk. She would come in, she'd get beaten over the head. She showed me the scars that she had, and she would give me, uh, some of her bread so I wouldn't starve. But after a while, she, uh, she was worried that she wouldn't be able to come.

And give me, uh, some of her rations. So, uh, she snuck me into the women's bunk and I stayed there, uh, hid under straw in the daytime when the women had to go to work. And so I was very quiet. I learned to be quiet. My mother was actually moved. She in, uh, pki, I mentioned to you labor camp. She was filling.

With lead and uh, so she had that experience. So she was moved to Austria to. Uh, ammunitions factory. Uh, and I was left with my grandmother, uh, in the women's bunk in Auschwitz. My grandmother, uh, actually I was sick. Uh uh, my grandmother took me to what was called quote unquote infirmary. And, uh, that is another miracle besides my mother, uh, saving me by giving her bread.

My grandmother took me to the infirmary, uh, when the Nazis had a death march. So, uh, uh, but we were in a, um. The infirmary and, uh, the Nazis, uh, were germa, quote unquote germophobic. They didn't like germs and the infirmary had sick people, so they didn't come there, uh, as much as they would, you know, to, to get the prisoners for the death march.

So we were saved. My grandmother, it was just a miracle that we were saved that way. What, like was it hard to live without your brother and your dad? Yes, it was, uh, when we came into Auschwitz, the Nazis had a separation of men and women, and so my brother and my dad went to the men's side. And, uh, uh, then my grandmother and my mother went to the women's side and I was four years old, so I was with them and, uh.

It, you know, I, I had, I don't remember my, uh, brother, uh, he was about five years older than I was, and I really don't remember my father. I have pictures now. Uh, but it was difficult and it was difficult after the war because, uh. Uh, after the war, we came back. My mother came back to, uh, Sharky. She found me and, uh, uh, my grandmother Dora and I came back and we wanted to go to the house that we lived in, in Sharky, Poland, but it was occupied by Polish people and they wouldn't let us in.

So my grandmother and I. Found a farm and we found a chicken coop with a board over our head, and that's how we lived and that's how my mother found us. When she came back from Austria looking for any, uh, remnants of the family. You said that you didn't have a, your father growing up. How did you learn to be such a good dad and a good papa if you didn't have a father yourself?

I think my mother, uh uh. Instilled a number of things myself. First of all, education was really critical to her. Uh, she, uh. She didn't have any education. My mother loved to dance and sing and uh, my father was an accountant. But the one thing that my mother instilled in me was education. Education and education.

The other thing that my mother, uh, taught me. I have a watch here, which Hebrew letters which say, which has a Gimbal and a Zion. It stands for in Hebrew vo, and that means this too shall pass. So. Remember, you have a bad day. Things don't go quite the way you want it. Uh, remember, this too shall pass. Look forward to the future and be optimistic.

And that's what my mother taught me. So basically I came to the US in 51 and, uh. I didn't speak English and uh, uh, we didn't have any clothes like you guys have, you know, nice clothes and I looked kind of odd, but, uh, my, we lived in Spanish Harlem. When we, uh, first in Brooklyn, I, uh, stayed. My mother and I stayed with my uncle and they didn't have room, so they put a couple of mattresses in their dining room and that's how my mother and I slept.

After we came to the US my mother was working as a seamstress and she was making about $30 a week and we moved to Spanish Harlem, and, uh, but. The schools weren't very good there. This was near 98th and Madison, but my aunt lived on 96 near Madison and she lived in a much nicer neighborhood, so I was able to use her dress and uh, I went to PS six, which was a much better school.

So I know when you, um, came to school, you didn't really tell a lot of the other, um. Kids about the Holocaust and you didn't really talk about it in general to like us or like our parents until recently. So I didn't really talk about it. Yes, I, uh, you know, I didn't speak English. I, uh, uh, uh. Looked a little different the other kids, so they didn't really talk to me.

And basically about 75 years, I didn't talk about my experiences in the Holocaust because for one thing I was a little ashamed. Uh. I know you've guys have seen this before, but this is my tattoo. It, uh, reads B 1148. So when I came to Auschwitz, uh, I wasn't Mike anymore. Mike Bornstein. I was. B 1148, prisoner B 1148.

And so I had the tattoo and uh, and I looked a little different, so the kids really didn't talk to me much at all. They were, uh, I was like almost invisible. Why did you start to talk about it? Because I know beforehand, like you said, you were just really ashamed to talk about it.

One thing, uh, a lot of Holocaust survivors getting old, and, uh, there wasn't anyone to talk about the atrocities that the Nazis did. The other thing, your mother and I, uh, were looking at a computer trying to find a picture of me. And we found something at the, uh, uh, Holocaust and Irish group. Basically the, this group was saying that, look, these kids aren't, weren't so bad.

Uh, they looked normal, and, uh, uh, Auschwitz wasn't so bad. What actually happened is the Russians invaded. You know, uh, Poland, they, uh, uh, freed Auschwitz and they, uh, fed us for about a week or two and then took the pictures so we at least, we weren't completely starving when they first took the pictures.

But, uh, Debbie, your mother and I looked at the computer and, and, uh, these, this, uh, uh, deniers group, uh, was saying that Auschwitz wasn't so bad. And so we decided it's time to talk. A few years ago, I mean, uh, middle school, I was bullied and I experienced some really hard times. Sometimes I still think about it now.

Like how would, how do you keep the bad memories from your childhood, uh, from creeping back? Well, I think the key is to look at the positive, uh, look at, uh. Be optimistic. Look at positive. Don't forget the bad, you know the bad things because never forget what happened with the Nazis, but be optimistic.

Look forward to the future and see how good things can get. Have some goals and remember, not all goals will, will, you know, be fulfilled, but at least. You will accomplish some of the things and uh, but if you don't accomplish all of them, don't get depressed, just move forward. You, you have to think of the positive when.

We ride New York City subways, they're cramped. And I think about cattle car ride from, uh, in Poland to the concentration camp. And that was kind of scary. But, uh, we also look about the life that we have right now. Uh, my, my wife and I have been married for about 53, 54 years. We have four wonderful children.

And we have terrific grandkids and you're one of them. Uh, so. We look at the positive, uh, remember there's a song to accentuate the positive. Uh, don't and forget the negative and don't mess with Mr in between. So that's the key. Look for the positive. What made you comfortable to talk about it? Like when you started to write the book?

The fact a lot of Jewish people, uh. We're dying off and there's a lot of bigotry right now in the United States and all over the world. There's bigotry against black people against Hispanic people against LGBT minorities. So I, I think it's important to show that we need to support people. That are downtrodden, they're hated, and try to get them, uh, to be lifted up.

So, um, why do you think personally that it's so important to remind people of the Holocaust, and are you afraid it might happen again? Kind of like what's happening with like, um, the Muslim concentration camps in China. Yes, I, I think it definitely can happen again. I, I think the world needs to know that to at least be kind, be considerate of others, and, uh, that's not the way it always is.

And I, I think that's in a way, human nature. But if we can minimize some of that, I think, uh, that would be positive.

Um, what's your favorite thing about life now? Well, my favorite thing about life right now is my grandkids. My kids. I love being with you guys and, uh, uh, with you too. Thank you. I think we're very lucky that, uh, we have, uh, 12 wonderful grandchildren and four terrific kids and in-laws, uh, they were all married to very, very nice and considerate people.

Um, so. Um, how did your childhood impact your life now? Like do you think you're, you're a different person because of what happened to you? I, I think. I am a different person. I try to minimize it. First of all, I have trouble leaving food behind that. Uh, I mentioned to you my grandmother and I snuck into garbage cans and, uh, I don't like to throw money away.

You know, we came here as homeless people. I came to the US as a dp, displaced person, and, uh, so, uh, basically a homeless person. And, uh, we had, uh, a dime that fell under a dresser and, uh. I went under the, you know, I put my hand under there, took a little work to find the dime, and my wife was saying, it's only a dime.

Why? But I have trouble. I told her I'd probably do the same for a penny. I just. Like, I don't like to throw money away. Um, I think that we just have one more question, which is, um, if you, what's like probably one of the one things that you want me and the rest of the grandkids to remember? Well, I think the one thing that's very, very, very important is education.

Just remember to be considerate of other people. Those, uh. Those are two, uh, thi important things. Consider it, be kind to other people. Uh, even if it doesn't affect you, try. Not to let others bully others around. Okay. The Last Generation podcast is created by Maddie Kramer, produced by Pickle Music, New York with Nicolai and Marco Toso.

To know more about Michael Story. You can go to Amazon and get the New York Times Bestseller Survivors Club written by Debbie Michael's daughter. I'm Michael. You can listen more of Michael's story and many other survivors@theshawafoundation.com. Stay tuned for the next episode and hear the story of Ruth Rosenberg.

Contact us at the last generation pod@gmail.com if you have a story to share. This is the Last Generation podcast, a podcast for the oldest and wisest to tell stories that live on.