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December 12, 2024
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Dorothy in West End Synagogue, Frankfurt.

With my wife, Dorothy, and my daughter Esther at Römerberg, Frankfurt.

Memorial to Jewish Community Bad Homburg.

It was well into 2014 and I had been married to my lovely Dorothy for just a little over a year. During that time, we had spent considerable time relating to each the other stories of our past. One recurring theme mentioned by me was my Strauss family’s history and background in Schmitten, Bad Homburg and Frankfurt. The more I talked, and the more Dorothy read about that subject in “My Stories,” the more I realized that she would understand it better if she could see it with her own eyes. Dorothy had never been to Germany and she had heard and read all the good and the bad about it.

I decided that we were going to Germany on our next trip to Israel. Dorothy suggested that we take Esther (my daughter) along as well. Esther had also never been to Germany, and having heard “My Holocaust Story” numerous times, would also be interested in seeing it for herself.

The first problem we faced was where we were going to stay. Frankfurt was logical since it had a kosher restaurant and a number of hotels. But it would increase our travel time to the other two locations. Bad Homburg is situated in between Frankfurt and Schmitten and therefore logistically a better choice. But where would we eat? I did not know a Jewish person there, or whether there even was a Jewish community. I do not recall how the contact was established (possibly through Gabriella Schlick-Bamberger, my previous contact in Homburg), but we were able to make meal arrangements with Rabbi Berl Rabinowitz, the Lubavitch rabbi in Homburg. He offered to serve us breakfast and dinner in his home, and whatever we wanted to take along for lunch on our tours. I offered to pay, but he was not willing to even discuss the subject. As we learned during our stay, he and his rebbetzin were starting the first Jewish community there since the war.

Once the food was settled I made a reservation in a small hotel named Hotel Haus Daheim (meaning “Hotel House at Home”) in the center of Homburg.

We had an uneventful flight to Frankfurt, arriving on October 27. From there we were driven by car (unofficial limo service) to the hotel. I had been in contact with various people, prior to starting on the trip, in order to make arrangements for the places we wanted to see. In particular I was in contact with Pfarrer (Minister) Martin Hoffmann, whose name might be recognized by the reader from my prior trip to Frankfurt in 2005, and with whom I had remained in email contact since. Also knowing of our forthcoming trip was Gabriella Schlick-Bamberger who also appeared prominently in the description of my 2005 trip.

I had been “warned” even before we left the US that I would have an interview by a local newspaper practically upon our arrival at the hotel. We had not had a chance to even unpack when the reporter arrived. Fortunately, the interview was in English, so that both Dorothy and Esther were able to sit in. The paper, Bad Homburger Woche, published the interview on November 6 after translating it into German for their readers. I received a copy of the newspaper article, which I translated back into English. The interview basically covered my and my family’s history in Bad Homburg and what happened to the family after we left Germany in 1941. The title was “An American Jew, Born in Germany.”

After we were settled in the hotel we visited the last home we had lived in at 11 Kisseleffstrasse and then were taken to Frankfurt by Gabriella for a visit to the cemetery, including the kever of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, z”l. We also went to 46 Uhlandstrasse, the last house in which we had lived in Frankfurt, which had been rebuilt after it had either been bombed during or torn down after the war.

Next, we went to the building that had replaced the Samson Raphael Hirsch Realschule (high school) that I had attended, and where a memorial sign was affixed to the wall. Also on the tour was the old inner city, which had been partially bombed out and had been rebuilt.

On our itinerary was Römerberg, the center of old Frankfurt, which had been made into a pedestrian mall; the Dom (cathedral) which had a door showing the Nevi’im (prophets); and the old fortification gate called “White Tower.”

Then we stopped at 32 Lersnerstrasse, where we had first lived when moving to Frankfurt and where we had lived during Kristallnacht (Night of the Broken Glass).

We had lunch at Sohar, the kosher restaurant, and then went to see the “West End Synagogue,” a large and beautiful building that had sustained only minor damage during Kristallnacht. It had been a conservative shul before the war but was now Orthodox.

The following day, October 28, we went sightseeing around Homburg and found that what I remembered from my youth as the main shopping street, Louisenstrasse, had been turned into a modern pedestrian mall. Rabbi Rabbinowitz lived on that street and we also found a store by the name of “Knapp,” Dorothy’s maiden name. We didn’t think they would be related so we did not inquire further. We also went to the Schloss Homburg, an ancient castle (Dorothy is crazy about castles) and were able to arrange for a private tour of the inside. This was the former residence Landgraf Friedrich III and his English wife, Elizabeth. (In English, “Landgrave” is an ancient German title of a count having jurisdiction of a large territory, as well as the title of any German prince.)

Our next stop was at the spot where the shul had stood, which had a Denkmal (memorial) commemorating the Jewish families that had lived there, including the former Rabbi Solomon Kottek. From there we went to 22 Kaiser Friedrich Promenade, the house that I was born in, which still stood exactly as I remembered it, including the balcony where I remember my mother drying the salamis.

(To be continued next week)

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