Alexander Netzer
Alexander Nezer, Amigour's Derech Hashalom Sheltered Home in Tel Aviv
My separation from my family and my new life with a Christian family in Warsaw
On the day we were separated I was less than five years old. It was the first day in my life that I can recall in detail the many events that occurred. They told me that a woman would come to take me on a two-day trip to a village. This was no small enticement for a boy who was raised in a closed up house in a ghetto; it was certainly a great temptation. My father placed me on his knee; my father, not my mother. He bade me farewell. He said to me: "If someone comes over to you and tells you to cross yourself, do so. " He taught me the blessing: "Veimeha evitza aidoha veimeha swetego, amen" and I repeated it after him.
She took me from there to some apartment in Warsaw. I remember looking into a mirror there and seeing myself, and enduring a powerful attack of tears and anger and a sense that I had been violated. They cut off all my hair and shaved my head. I had curly red hair, and according to the Polish stereotype that was the mark of a Jew, that was not a good thing. It was good to be blond with silky hair. This brought bitter tears and an awful crisis in my life. I remember that afterward this woman was holding me by the hand as we passed through the gates of the ghetto. And I remember the guards with their steel helmets that were so distinctive of the Nazis standing off to the side as we passed. By what pretense did she manage to get me past them? - I have no idea…
Q – You walked with her of your own free will?
A – Yes, for sure, my father sent me on a two-day trip with her. This day was very meaningful for me as my whole world turned upside down. At this point she delivered me into the hands of another woman in an apartment in Warsaw, on the Aryan side. I remember her enormous breasts. With her left hand she held a large loaf of bread to her breast and with her right hand she held a knife. She made me understand that I was supposed to repeat after her the words to the prayer "Our Father Who Art in Heaven" and if I would do so she would cut for me a slice of bread and give it to me. That was the way things were. So I learned the words to the prayer "Our Father Who Art in Heaven."
Alexander was hidden in the home of the non-Jewish Mayor of the city for five years.
After the war ended, his aunt came to take him, and he learned that his entire family had been murdered by the Nazis. The person who rescued him is recognized by Israel as a Righteous Gentile.
