metro >> on the cover If% 'Night Of Broken Glass' Local survivors share horrible memories on the 75th anniversary of Kristallnacht. Esther Allweiss Ingber I Contributing Writer CONTINUED FROM PAGE 1 Hills-based Holocaust Memorial Center (HMC). "Thousands of Jews were 'repatri- ated' — to use the Nazi euphemism — to Poland. Because Poland did not want to receive them, they were simply deposited at a dismal strip across the Polish border, where they had scarcely any food, water or shelter. Among them was the entire family of a 17-year-old Jewish boy living in Paris" Young Herschel Grynszpan was enraged upon hearing of his parents' plight. Seeking vengeance, he took a pistol to the German embassy in Paris and shot the first person he encountered there, a minor official by the name of Ernst vom Rath, who died Nov. 8 of his gunshot wounds. "Grynszpan's parents, hearing of the planned measures of retribution, pleaded that Grynszpan's act should be taken as an isolated incident" Stern said. "But the Nazis had been waiting for such a provocation and had, long before, organized a mass pogrom against the Jews. Now they set it in motion. With great efficiency and great coordination, they burned virtually every synagogue in Germany, violated and looted Jewish-owned stores, broke into Jewish homes, and abused and killed their inhabit- ants" Some in our community survived those horrible nights long ago. They share their memories of Kristallnacht and of their lives before and after the war. John Nemon, 91, of West Bloomfield Born in Vienna on Nov. 28, 1921, John Nemon attended a technical school until the Jewish students were dismissed around April 1938. Mother Frieda ran a soup kitchen for the Jewish community. Father Benjamin owned two movie theaters. When Kristallnacht spread to Austria on Nov. 10, only Nemon, 16, and Frieda were at home. Benjamin was arrested just before and was destined never to return home. But safe in England were Nemon's siblings Bella, 18, a housemaid, and Norbert, 10, who worked on a farm since coming over on the Kindertransport, a secret rescue by train of 10,000 Jewish children. Nemon's plan that day was to go to the American Embassy to see if his number was Interior of a Berlin synagogue after Kristallnacht called for a visa to the United States. The non-Jewish caretaker of his building, "with a big swastika on his lapel" wouldn't let Nemon go outside. "'Today is not the day for you: he said, and then showed me where my synagogue was burning a couple of blocks down. The smoke was sky-high. "He saved me. I found out that anyone who went to the embassy that day was beaten up or killed" Nemon and his mother stayed inside and waited. Later, the scene was broken windows and Nazis everywhere. Nemon heard his aunts were caught and made to scrub the street. After getting his visa in February 1939, Nemon saw his jailed father one last time. That summer, Benjamin got 24 hours' notice to leave Austria. He fled to Yugoslavia and ended up in a Nazi camp, where "an eyewitness saw them kill my father," Nemon said. After escaping to England in September 1939, Frieda tried to survive by sewing and taking in boarders. She saw her children, but they didn't live together. In New York, Nemon responded to an ad offering training for unemployed young men at a government-sponsored camp in Chelsea, Mich. That's how Detroit became his home. Nemon was drafted into the U.S. Army for World War II although considered "an enemy alien" He served three years, first in Marseilles (France) and then mov- ing through the Panama Canal to the Pacific. His unit was south of Hawaii when President Harry Truman gave orders to drop the atomic bomb. Nemon's ship was diverted to the Philippines, and the soldiers later occupied Japan. Prior to his military discharge, Nemon became a naturalized American citizen. He vouched for his mother and brother to join him. They received visas, "but the ships were filled" so Nemon took action in Washington, D.C. "I went to see a famous Michigan Republican senator, Arthur Vandenberg. He said, 'Don't worry, I'll bring them over And in two weeks, they were here Frieda and Norbert stayed in New York with family, later joining Nemon in Detroit. His brother lives in California; their mother died two years ago at age 99. In his working life, Nemon had a clean- ing business and later owned a real estate company. He was married 68 years to Sarah (Carpenter), and they had four children, seven grandchildren and seven great-grand- children. Her death in February prompted his move to the Hechtman II Apartments in West Bloomfield. Nemon enjoys the men's group at the West Bloomfield JCC and a club for Jewish men from Vienna that's been meeting for 20 years. Charles Growe, 89, of Oak Park Karl Grosz was Charles Growe's original name. He was born in Vienna in 1924 to Stella (Schwarz) and Fred Grosz, a ship- ping agent. Charles Growe Jewish families like the Groszes became fairly assimilated during the reign of Austro- Hungarian Emperor Franz Joseph I, who ushered in a period of tolerance from approximately 1848 to 1938. But, by March 1938 in Vienna, "it was beginning to get bloodthirsty" Growe said. A 14-year-old Boy Scout during Kristallnacht, Growe was upset when "they picked up my mother on the street and locked her up at the S.S. headquarters" Broken Glass on page 10 8 November 7 • 2013