metro >> on the cover Aqi and Zoli Rubin's love is still strong at 60 years. A Two Holocaust survivors prepare to celebrate 60 years of marriage. Arnie Goldman I Special to the Jewish News CONTINUED FROM PAGE 1 his extended family died; but fortunately, he was able to save a remarkable photo album from his Czechoslovakian home and bring it to America. The album contains a treasure trove of photos and letters from his fam- ily's past. Pho to s by Ju dy Go ldman and raised a family. They've never forgot- ten the losses they suf- fered during the war. "We survivors are bundles of contradic- tions," Agi Rubin wrote in her 2006 book, Reflections, Auschwitz, Agi's Heartache Memory and a Life Agi Rubin's Holocaust Recreated (written experiences were very with Henry Greenspan, different. Agi says she was Paragon Books). "We "fortunate" to have 15 out push away the past, of 60 family members and we are constantly survive. But being trans- drawn back to it. When Zoli looks through an old family photo album saved from his childhood ported from Munkacs in we are here, we are also home in the former Czechoslovakia as Agi watches and remembers. a cattle car to Auschwitz/ there. And when we are Birkenau and barely exist- there, we are also here." ing amidst starvation, Still, the couple was able to prosper seder in his home, a beautiful, sad, dis- devastation and death was anything but in America and have been grateful they tant memory. "There must have been at "fortunate:' were given a chance to meet each other least 35-40 people:' he said. "It was ... it At Auschwitz, she and her family were and live together for 60 years. was just beautiful. Kids running around, lined up and shoved while Germans mut- Zoli, who had immigrated to Canada small children, big children." tered, "Schnell, schnell" (fast in German). thanks to a farmer who had once been In the late 1930s, two of Zoli's broth- Josef Mengele took Agi from her mother, helped by Zoli's father, found work in ers were deported, but his wealthy par- aunt and brother. Agi ran back three times Detroit at the Midwest Woolen Co. on ents were considered "important" and before Mengele threw her to the ground. Randolph Street. The owner gave Zoli $50 exempted for a while. Zoli was fortunate "My mother said, let my child go!' Then the first day because he saw what a hard to get gentile identification papers from to me, 'I'll see you tomorrow:" said Agi, worker he was. When an opening for a a friend; these papers helped to keep him who would always remember her mother cashier came up, Zoli convinced his boss alive. His parents were desperate for their with the wave of her little finger. to hire Agi. youngest child to survive, but they didn't In her book, Agi writes about sort- Zoli said he wanted to propose to her. want to live under gentile papers. ing the clothes of those who had been Marrying an American would make it When soldiers came to his house, his gassed and killed. Imagine recognizing easier to become an American citizen. father told Zoli to hide in the sulckah set your aunt's jacket in the leftover clothes Today, Zoli still calls his longtime wife up between the roofs. "Kim nisht her- and knowing that someone you love has his "green care Despite protest from inter" (don't come down) were the last just been exterminated a few feet away. some in their families, Zoli and Agi got words he ever heard from his mother. His Imagine sorting the jewelry, shoes, hair married in Detroit on Aug. 18, 1951. parents were taken to Zilina in Slovakia. and clothing and realizing this was all Although he tried, Zoli was unable to that was left of your brother and mother. Zoli's Early Life save them. He joined the Slovak uprising Agi wrote about Birkenau in the sum- He was the youngest of 11 children in 1944 to fight the evil he had witnessed. mer of 1944: "I will never forget the who grew up in a small village in The Germans captured him and others sounds. There was singing, Ani Maanim' Czechoslovakia. His father, whom he and forced them to march. Zoli held onto CI believe in the coming of the Messiah'). describes as a very "religious man," ran a the protective socks his mother gave him There were shouts of farewell — parents flourishing large farm, flour mill and saw- before she was captured; to Zoli, those saying goodbye to children, old people mill. Zoli said his father, like Abraham, socks kept his mother close to him and saying goodbye to their families, a whole kept his doors open for everyone, for helped keep him alive. community saying goodbye to life. The people to pray in his house. It's been almost 70 years, but Zoli's Sh'ma, (`Hear, 0 Israel'). The end of the Zoli says he had an idyllic, nice child- voice quivers when he speaks of the Sh'ma. The end of everything. Silence hood, a Jewish life with "all the freedom agonizing days and unbearable losses. screaming just as loud. we wanted." He remembered the last He estimates that about 70 members of "I will never forget these sounds. They 10 August 18 2011 will always haunt me." Agi's father survived the Holocaust, but her mother did not. And so Agi ended her book, remembering her mother "as she looked across the mud and the agony, try- ing to get my attention, trying to imagine a future, trying to invoke hope, trying to bestow the only blessing that, in the end, this world allows: 'Go, my child, go.' Life Well Lived Although those memories haunt Zoli and Agi more than 66 years later, they have persevered with little bitterness and anger. They say they are thankful for the gifts their lives have brought them: their family and the many friends they've made over a lifetime. They raised three children, Vicki, Amy and Randy, and have seven grandchildren as well. After all those years together, they still talk and share and aren't afraid to face the past horrors of their lives together. Zoli worries when Agi doesn't feel well and vice versa. Zoli smiles when he says he will live to be 100. He frequently attends Congregation B'nai Moshe in West Bloomfield and often leads prayers, even though he is older than 90. Though he lived through some of the most horrific years in Jewish history, he still believes in God and faithfully marks yahrtzeits in loving memory for every member of his family. Today, Agi rarely attends services but still has strong memories of her time spent in prayer. In her book, she remembered her father when he sang "Ein Keloheinu" and wrote, "Whenever I am at the synagogue, I hear his voice ... I remember how much joy he got out of singing ... He is again with me, and I am singing with him. It is the harmony of voices that makes the legacy, the way I tune myself to him and feel his spirit still singing through my own voice. Even now, we are singing together:' l I Agi and Zoli Rubin spoke about their pasts for the Voice/Vision Holocaust Survivor Oral History Project at the University of Michigan-Dearborn during the 1980s. Both can be found online at http://holocaust. umd.umich.edut