The Shadow of Death

"I owe it to those who were left behind to do what I can to share their stories."

"One gentleman said to me, ‘I don't know why I survived.  They put us in a barn, they machine-gunned everything around and when I sat up I saw the guy on my right was dead and the guy on my left was dead--and I'm saying, 'Why am I here?'"

Miriam Davidow is looking back over the 22 interviews with local Holocaust survivors she conducted for Survivors of the Shoah Visual History Foundation, an organization founded by Stephen Speilberg.

The organization aims to videotape eyewitness accounts of the Holocaust and develop the most comprehensive multimedia archive of survivor testimonies ever assembled.

More than 32,000 interviews have already been conducted in 49 countries.  By the end of this year, Davidow expects to contribute about three dozen from the Richmond area. 

"They were all absolutely in awe of the miracle of their survival," says Davidow of her Richmond interviewees.  "Many are the sole survivor in their family.  Many are also accompanied by guilt at being the sole survivor in their family."

Davidow pauses, her fingers interlaced on her desk.  Behind her a computer in screen-saver mode scrolls "Shalom"--peace--again and again.

Family is the reason for Davidow's interest in the Holocaust and for her rapport with her subjects.  She volunteered to be an interviewer after hearing about the project at a national conference for children of Holocaust survivors.  "As a child of survivors I grew up feeling different," she says, "or at least knowing my parents were different."  

Davidow's father fled to New York from Germany in 1938.  Her mother, a Viennese, spent two-and-a-half years in the Lodz ghetto.  In 1944 she was transported through Auschwitz to Bergen-Belsen, from which she was liberated in 1945.

"I remember mornings when my father said, 'Don't bother your mother.  She's sleeping.   She had nightmares all night.'"

Davidow speaks quietly, her thoughtful, introspective manner a startling contrast to her usual role as the high-energy, high-profile director of community services for the Jewish Community Federation of Richmond.

"I grew up in the shadow of the Holocaust," she continues.  "It was always present.  It may not have been mentioned every day, it may not have been referred to, but it was always there."

The Holocaust was also a powerful lifelong presence for Spielberg, a realization that comes with a jolt to those accustomed to the idyllic suburban childhoods depicted in such movies as "E.T."

In a 1995 interview with Lifestyles, a Buffalo, N.Y.-based magazine featuring Jewish issue and individuals, Spielberg reminisced about learning to count from the concentration camp tattoo of a Cincinnati neighbor.    

"He would show me a 3 and a 2 and a 5 and a 7," Spielberg recalled.  "Then he would say he was doing a magic trick, show me a 6, lift his forearm and turn it into a 9.  I remember his number was 322576."

Spielberg's interest in his own Jewish heritage was rekindled with the birth of his first child.    "I wanted to raise my children as Jews," he said.  "And I had to re-immerse myself in Judaism so that I could help them fulfill their destinies and make their own choices as they got older."

His 1994 movie, "Schindler's List," which deals with the Holocaust, was part of that journey back.  Survivors came to him to tell their stories during the making of the film in Poland.  "I kept saying to them, 'Thank you for telling me, but I wish you could say this to a camera because this is an important testimony.'  I asked them if they'd be willing to do this, and they all said yes."

The video testimonies, all gathered by volunteers, are up to five hours long and usually are filmed in the survivor's homes.  The survivors talk about their lives before, during, and after the Holocaust.  Because of their age--most of the survivors are in their 70s and 80s--Spielberg characterizes the endeavor as a race against time.

When completed, the project will constitute the largest oral-history archive in existence.  One of its main applications, Spielberg says, will be teaching tolerance in our schools.

"I'm involved with it because I want people to hear the story," says local interviewer Davidow.  "I want people to understand why it happened and how it can happen again, and what we as individuals can do to not make it happen."

The survivors' tales of the Holocaust are sometimes uplifting, Davidow points out; some countries--Denmark, Hungary, Holland--fought off the Nazis extermination program for a time.  Some citizens hid or protected Jews, at great danger to themselves.

Still, the stories told by many survivors are horrifying.  Davidow admits to being emotionally drained after interviews, even though she sometimes knows what's coming and is able to prepare herself beforehand.

"Some of the most difficult stories to hear from people are those moments when they knew they wouldn't see their family members again, when they were told to go to the left or the right in the line, and they knew they were being deported and their parent's weren't," Davidow says.  "Some of the stories are incredibly graphic--speaking to people who witnessed hangings, having spoken to patients in a ward that Mengele was involved with that did medical experiments.  Obviously they are distasteful.  But they're also the most difficult to listen to."

Davidow spaces the interviews to give herself time to recover.  "But the pain I might experience is small compared to the experience of those who were left behind," she says.  "I really feel like I owe it to those who were left behind to do what I can do to share their stories."

Most of the interviewees were already known to the Richmond Jewish community.  Some came forward because of the project, Davidow says. 

Other interviewees literally walk in the door because of Davidow's job with Community Services for the Jewish Community Federation of Richmond. 

"One day a gentleman walked into my office with tears in his eyes and said, 'This is the 51st anniversary of my liberation.  I need to talk to somebody.'  I spent an hour or so with him, then asked if he would do an interview.  He said, 'Yes, I want to share my story.'

"Within a week we were at his house."

"The Shadow of Death" first appeared in the September 16, 1997 issue of Style Weekly.