It is rare that a poet’s verses written in the midst of anti-Semitic threats and machine guns between 1939 and 1946 find enthusiastic readers today. So I was not a little surprised when the request came from Professor Goldman at Szombathely University to have Dr Eugene Heimler’s three volumes of verse drama republished in Hungary. With no more than the knowledge of saying in Hungarian ‘I love you’ and a few other expressions, I decided to stand up to the challenge and – with the help of devoted Hungarian colleagues and friends – published about a year later the three volumes in one beautiful book with the title Napfogyatkozás Után (After the Eclipse of the Sun).
The book launch was amazingly well organized by Professor Marta Goldman. At around the same time, in May not so many years before, I had been in Budapest and Szombathely with the poet himself, and the fresh green leaves of the chestnut trees were swaying under the Hungarian sky. Now, with only his memory and the presence of his written words and messages, we came together to celebrate.
The first event took place in the Jewish Community Center in Budapest. Considering the small number of Jews in Budapest who survived the shootings and deportations to Auschwitz-Birkenau and other concentration camps, the attendance was unexpectedly high.
A historian enlightened us about the history of the Jews in Hungary and a young actor brought some of the poems to life. I talked about the Heimler family history, including an ancestor by the name of Abravanel, who was a physician to one of the kings of Spain and who was honored by the king. I enlivened my talk with family photos and quotes from Night of the Mist and Messages: A Survivor’s Letter to a Young German.
The train journey from Budapest to Szombathely – Dr Heimler’s hometown in western Hungary – took about two and a half hours through fields and woods. The journey could have been quite relaxing if the repetitive movements and sounds of the engine had not constantly reminded me of the cattle trucks with human Jewish cargo that were destined for Auschwitz on 4 July 1944…
Those thoughts soon vanished and took quite a different direction when I was led by a historian of Szombathely through the Jewish cemetery. I had visited the resting places of the departed for the first time with Dr Heimler in the spring of 1990. The grass seemed to have continued growing during those twenty-six years, for one could hardly find one’s way through the more than a meter-high pasture. After some searching, I eventually found the grave of Maria Heimler, Dr Heimler’s mother, and I thought of the stories that ‘Heimler – the poet’, as he was called in Hungary, had recorded in Night of the Mist and in A Link in the Chain, and of my deep energetic connection with her that I had felt for so many years. She had died when Dr Heimler was seventeen. There were other Heimler graves too: grandparents and great-grandparents were buried here in more peaceful times. All of them had a dream: to one day return to where they came from – to the land of their forefathers, to the land of Israel. And I, Miriam Bracha Heimler, am now
fulfilling their dream…. I was glad I had remembered to bring a handkerchief, for I got very emotional over this thought. During the tour of the pretty little town, we visited the sights of the remains of an old synagogue; we walked through the town center and along the river Gyongyos, and the memories of the stories I had read and been told came once more alive. The culmination of the walking tour was King Street No. 11. The city council had expressed their reverence and appreciation of ‘Heimler – the poet’ by putting at the entrance of the building where the Heimler family had lived a plaque, a commemorative head sculpture of Dr Eugene Heimler (Heimler Jenö) with an inscription of his achievements. I paused there for a while, and recalled my walk together with my husband then, which will stay longer in my memory than the sculpture.
These impressions filled me with quite enough emotions to deal with; however, there was no time to digest those the same day. A specially prepared kosher luncheon with the heads of the Jewish community and the historian of Szombathely was waiting for me, as well as a visit to a truly unique Holocaust exhibit. It was the first time that I saw in huge photography Jewish life – not death – before the deportations. I saw my father-in- law, Dr Ernó Heimler, a prominent lawyer and member of the Social Democratic Party and a member of the county council. I saw Dr Eugene
Heimler, Heimler – the poet, Heimler Jenö in Hungarian, and quotes from Night of the Mist projected and illuminated on huge, high walls. I did not have enough time to take in all these impressions, since the book launch was scheduled for six o’clock and the Hungarian TV had already arrived to interview me right in front of the gigantic live portraits.
How many Jews had remained in Szombathely? Out of a flourishing community of 3,400 Jews in 1941, who made up ten per cent of the population of Szombathely, fifty Jews had survived the Holocaust and returned; and it seems that one hundred per cent of the remaining Jews attended the book launch that day – about fifty devoted and interested Jewish citizens. Surprisingly, in this group of people there was more energy and interest than there had been at the evening event in Budapest.
After the Mayor of Szombathely had given his introductory speech, an established actor, who later recited a number of the poems in a most powerful fashion, challenged the Mayor with a question: ‘Mr Mayor’, he said, ‘I grew up in Szombathely on a street called Dr Heimler Ernó utca. Why was the name of the street changed a few years ago?’ (During political changes in Hungary, certain street names had been changed.) The Mayor, in his embarrassment, must have felt put on the spot and he said, ‘I made a mistake. I am sorry. The street will be renamed to Dr Heimler Ernó utca’.
A historian then enlightened us on Jewish life in Szombathely, of the history of the Jews and of the Heimler family.
My talk was the last one, and the standing ovation that I received was no doubt an appreciation that was meant for Dr Eugene Heimler, his family and his ancestors – and for all those Hungarian Jews who had lost their lives during the Holocaust.
The following day, as part of a documentary on Dr. Heimler's life, Dr Murai Gábor had set up a film crew and interviewed me on the life of and on my relationship with Dr Eugene Heimler.
I am truly thankful to the Almighty for having allowed me to make a small contribution to keeping the memory of Dr Eugene Heimler and his family alive.
Miriam Bracha Heimler, MSW is a therapist and senior lecturer in the Heimler Method of Social Functioning. She works in private practice in Jerusalem and Netanya, Israel (www.miriamshealingwell.com).
As trustee of the Eugene Heimler Literary Trust, she has published, republished and translated many of Dr Heimler’s writings. In addition, Mrs. Heimler gives presentations worldwide on Dr Heimler’s life, philosophy, his books and his method of Social Functioning.
(also see www.newholocaustliterature.com)
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The book launch was amazingly well organized by Professor Marta Goldman. At around the same time, in May not so many years before, I had been in Budapest and Szombathely with the poet himself, and the fresh green leaves of the chestnut trees were swaying under the Hungarian sky. Now, with only his memory and the presence of his written words and messages, we came together to celebrate.
The first event took place in the Jewish Community Center in Budapest. Considering the small number of Jews in Budapest who survived the shootings and deportations to Auschwitz-Birkenau and other concentration camps, the attendance was unexpectedly high.
A historian enlightened us about the history of the Jews in Hungary and a young actor brought some of the poems to life. I talked about the Heimler family history, including an ancestor by the name of Abravanel, who was a physician to one of the kings of Spain and who was honored by the king. I enlivened my talk with family photos and quotes from Night of the Mist and Messages: A Survivor’s Letter to a Young German.
The train journey from Budapest to Szombathely – Dr Heimler’s hometown in western Hungary – took about two and a half hours through fields and woods. The journey could have been quite relaxing if the repetitive movements and sounds of the engine had not constantly reminded me of the cattle trucks with human Jewish cargo that were destined for Auschwitz on 4 July 1944…
Those thoughts soon vanished and took quite a different direction when I was led by a historian of Szombathely through the Jewish cemetery. I had visited the resting places of the departed for the first time with Dr Heimler in the spring of 1990. The grass seemed to have continued growing during those twenty-six years, for one could hardly find one’s way through the more than a meter-high pasture. After some searching, I eventually found the grave of Maria Heimler, Dr Heimler’s mother, and I thought of the stories that ‘Heimler – the poet’, as he was called in Hungary, had recorded in Night of the Mist and in A Link in the Chain, and of my deep energetic connection with her that I had felt for so many years. She had died when Dr Heimler was seventeen. There were other Heimler graves too: grandparents and great-grandparents were buried here in more peaceful times. All of them had a dream: to one day return to where they came from – to the land of their forefathers, to the land of Israel. And I, Miriam Bracha Heimler, am now
fulfilling their dream…. I was glad I had remembered to bring a handkerchief, for I got very emotional over this thought. During the tour of the pretty little town, we visited the sights of the remains of an old synagogue; we walked through the town center and along the river Gyongyos, and the memories of the stories I had read and been told came once more alive. The culmination of the walking tour was King Street No. 11. The city council had expressed their reverence and appreciation of ‘Heimler – the poet’ by putting at the entrance of the building where the Heimler family had lived a plaque, a commemorative head sculpture of Dr Eugene Heimler (Heimler Jenö) with an inscription of his achievements. I paused there for a while, and recalled my walk together with my husband then, which will stay longer in my memory than the sculpture.
These impressions filled me with quite enough emotions to deal with; however, there was no time to digest those the same day. A specially prepared kosher luncheon with the heads of the Jewish community and the historian of Szombathely was waiting for me, as well as a visit to a truly unique Holocaust exhibit. It was the first time that I saw in huge photography Jewish life – not death – before the deportations. I saw my father-in- law, Dr Ernó Heimler, a prominent lawyer and member of the Social Democratic Party and a member of the county council. I saw Dr Eugene
Heimler, Heimler – the poet, Heimler Jenö in Hungarian, and quotes from Night of the Mist projected and illuminated on huge, high walls. I did not have enough time to take in all these impressions, since the book launch was scheduled for six o’clock and the Hungarian TV had already arrived to interview me right in front of the gigantic live portraits.
How many Jews had remained in Szombathely? Out of a flourishing community of 3,400 Jews in 1941, who made up ten per cent of the population of Szombathely, fifty Jews had survived the Holocaust and returned; and it seems that one hundred per cent of the remaining Jews attended the book launch that day – about fifty devoted and interested Jewish citizens. Surprisingly, in this group of people there was more energy and interest than there had been at the evening event in Budapest.
After the Mayor of Szombathely had given his introductory speech, an established actor, who later recited a number of the poems in a most powerful fashion, challenged the Mayor with a question: ‘Mr Mayor’, he said, ‘I grew up in Szombathely on a street called Dr Heimler Ernó utca. Why was the name of the street changed a few years ago?’ (During political changes in Hungary, certain street names had been changed.) The Mayor, in his embarrassment, must have felt put on the spot and he said, ‘I made a mistake. I am sorry. The street will be renamed to Dr Heimler Ernó utca’.
A historian then enlightened us on Jewish life in Szombathely, of the history of the Jews and of the Heimler family.
My talk was the last one, and the standing ovation that I received was no doubt an appreciation that was meant for Dr Eugene Heimler, his family and his ancestors – and for all those Hungarian Jews who had lost their lives during the Holocaust.
The following day, as part of a documentary on Dr. Heimler's life, Dr Murai Gábor had set up a film crew and interviewed me on the life of and on my relationship with Dr Eugene Heimler.
I am truly thankful to the Almighty for having allowed me to make a small contribution to keeping the memory of Dr Eugene Heimler and his family alive.
Miriam Bracha Heimler, MSW is a therapist and senior lecturer in the Heimler Method of Social Functioning. She works in private practice in Jerusalem and Netanya, Israel (www.miriamshealingwell.com).
As trustee of the Eugene Heimler Literary Trust, she has published, republished and translated many of Dr Heimler’s writings. In addition, Mrs. Heimler gives presentations worldwide on Dr Heimler’s life, philosophy, his books and his method of Social Functioning.
(also see www.newholocaustliterature.com)
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