CLOSE-UP

CD

E s c ape

A family traces its older
generation's journey
for survival from the Nazis
through Czechoslovakia.

Nommill ■
PHIL. JACOBS

Managing Editor

The family members stand in front of an outhouse, all that remains of the hideout.

24

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 1992

ith the expression ,---)
of an excited child,
Jean Weiss held
the back of the bus °
10117 seat in front of her
and looked out at the browns and
greens of the Czechoslovakian coun- -
tryside.
When she got off in a small town
called Vapenik, an old man with a
cane came over to her and said, "Yo.i- - -
look just like Sarah."
Mrs. Weiss started to cry. She was
20 when she left her parents behir --1J
to come to the United States. She
would never see them again. Until c - - -'
the old man approached her, there : c,
had been no one to tell her, to hon-
or her with a compliment that she.
looked like Sarah, her mother.
A former classmate, her hair cov-
ered with a scarf, her dress Old =,
World-European, also recognized
Mrs. Weiss. With a hug, she told the°
Southfield resident that "while two
mountains never come together, two
friends always will." ,---
Mrs. Weiss told her daughter, Dot--)
tie Wagner, that she was now satis- c---'
fled. For refugees of World War II, ,,
that satisfaction often comes from
walking on the hallowed ground,
where parents and family once
walked.
Dottie Wagner, her brother r_
Arthur Weiss and an extended fam-
ily of some 30 relatives endured cold_
showers and hotels without air con-
ditioning, and carried with them
suitcases filled with tuna to be surf,
they would always have kosher food. 1
But it was a reunion and trip the )
family will never forget. It involved
tracing the Weiss' escape from the-
Nazis from town to town in Czecho-
slovakia and visiting their daring
hideout. It meant meeting the Right=
eous Gentiles who kept their secret
and remembered them some 50