Ulm, Part II and Misc.
More of a blog post than research notes this time, really... sorry for getting my early aughts on!
Tool: Digressions
I feel almost like I should start this entry with something like “Dear LiveJournal” or somesuch, since it’s a mishmash of research notes, musings, and planning. Forgive me my digressions! Sometimes, they’re the most fruitful part of the pre-writing process.
Ulm: Part II
We spent a rainy, cold day in Ulm, mostly exploring area around the Old City. We tracked down the Einstein Fountain, had lunch at the Einstein Cafe, and then went to the train station early because of a predicted (and actualized) storm.
Ulm wasn’t disappointing, in that I had very low expectations for it and that’s why we only planned a one day side trip to visit the city. The one thing of note was that I’d expect to find more cheesy Einstein branding in any mid-sized American city—on bagel stores, computer repair businesses, books for babies, stickers, t-shirts, mugs, finger puppets, ad nauseum—than we found in Ulm. Also, almost always when people take my name for something, they comment on it (including on the train from Ulm), but in Ulm itself, nobody did. I don’t know what, if anything, this means, but I found it interesting.
The most significant event during our visit was a short but violent hail storm. Fortunately, the only kind of prognostication I believe in is storm warnings on my phone, so we were already safely at the train station when it hit.
In emails related to the trip, my cousin Ronald remembered his own trip to the city.
It was that terrible winter when even the vaunted German train system was experiencing delays. I did step into the venerable Ulm cathedral, as I have a soft spot for austere gothic structures. Unfortunately, it was not heated, so my visit was brief.
We also stopped in the cathedral, which is indeed a very austere gothic building (and cold, even on what was a pretty mild spring day). I’ve taken to playing a game with myself, rating cathedrals by how gorily their main “dead Jew” is impaled on his cross; I’m happy to report that in Ulm, the primary crucifix is not very gory at all. (I realize this has the whiff of sacrilege… but hope you’ll forgive me, on this trip so full of the talk of the murder of Jews, a little dark humor.)
The truth is that the most pleasant thing about our trip was how very little it had to do with tracking down the atrocities of the past, which hasn’t been the goal of this trip, even if it has become the overarching narrative of my learning on it. We did a little shopping (I bought some Birkenstocks because I’ve worn through my walking shoes, Dominik bought some figures for his Warhammer armies, it was all happily banal). Like many university towns, Ulm was full of fashion and art and good but cheap restaurants, and it was a nice break from some of our more difficult journeys.
Digression One: A Lovely Email from Ted Einstein
As you’ll remember from my last post, eight years ago a distant cousin, Ted Einstein, reached out and we shared an uncomfortable dinner in Athens, OH as he and his wife were passing through. There is no other way to put it: I was rude. As I noted in that post, I owed him an apology, and I was delighted to receive such a warm response from him in spite of my ungraciousness back then. He very kindly wrote back
Nothing to apologize for; I do remember your striking stories about your father’s forebears (and would greatly appreciate a copy of any journal information on your family history that you are willing to share.) Indeed, many from Germany in those years were somewhat unsavory types, often having impregnated some young woman and not wanting to follow the then-prescribed responsible choice. Indeed, my maternal great-grandfather’s brother had been very tempted to take that path!
I am looking forward to filling in the genealogical information I wasn’t willing to share while dad was still alive, and hopefully talking more with him about our family history (and being a much nicer person this time around… sheesh, past Sarah!).
When he first reached out to me, he shared some family trees that I’m only now becoming interested in. The first is my connection to Einstein:
To be honest, I’m the least interested in this one, as my connection is very distant and I don’t actually make any claim to it. But I’m very interested in the chart he sent me of Moses Einstein’s descendants. He was the Einstein in my branch of the family to emigrate to the US, and I find the possibility that he did so because of his own bad actions, rather than out of fear, both very fitting for my part of the Einstein family and oddly… cheering? Even if he only came for economic advantage, just the idea of migration for reasons other than expulsion or pogroms is pleasantly quotidian. I hope to find out more in the future, thanks to Ted’s information.
There are a few maybe-cousins on my email list. If you recognize a name on this chart, and have information, I’d love to hear from you!
Digression Two: Planning for Yom HaShoah at Mauthausen
Tomorrow, we’re going to Mauthausen for Yom HaShoah. I’ve been looking in to the ways people mark the day, and finding that the remembrance activities are still pretty fluid and situational. If we were going to one of the more touristed camps, I could expect a formal program, but I can’t find anything online suggesting we’ll encounter a group of Jews marking the day on our trip. (If we do, I will certainly join in.) So I’ve been thinking how best to use this time of reflection, and I’d like to float a few things by those of you who are also Jewish and ask your opinion.
First, I plan on wearing yellow, both because it’s a cheerful color (and I don’t want to go as an echo, but as an obstinate presence… and insistence on Jewish life in a place of Jewish death). But also because, even when it wasn’t fashioned into a star, it was the color Jews were required to wear in much of medieval Europe to mark themselves as such, and I want to be visibly Jewish tomorrow. (I have, at home, several t-shirts that make me so, but I didn’t bring any since I’m not really the kind of person who wears t-shirts with things written on them except at the gym.) What yellow I’ve brought with me is probably inappropriate for both the weather and the occasion (it’s a set of brightly colored spring pieces in my beloved “Grandma Toddler” style). But I don’t mind being either chilly or oddly dressed. I’ve been both plenty of times before.
I am trying to think of ways to be stubbornly alive in that space. Maybe I’ll pack chocolate, for joy, or load Meshugga Beach Party into my phone to listen to on the walk there and back, or sing happy, rebellious songs I remember from religious school quietly to myself while we’re there. Maybe I’ll just manage not to weep the whole time. I’m not yet sure exactly what to do. If you have suggestions, I would love to hear them.
I am also entirely open to your arguments that this is a horrible, maybe even disrespectful, idea. Because I do not wish to be the latter, even as I’ve resigned myself to the fact that we’re all sometimes the former.
What would you do if you were going to Mauthausen tomorrow, family and friends?
Peace,
Sarah
I am afraid that the sorrow of the visit would seep into my bones and never leave.