As the museum of human nature, aka the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, marks its 25th anniversary, it continues to receive artifacts, such as a letter handwritten on a yellow scrap of paper. It was donated to the museum by Frank Grunwald, 85, who lives in Indianapolis.
He was the younger of two Czechoslovakian boys who sit smiling on their mother’s lap in a photograph the museum has. It was taken before this Jewish family was swept into the Nazi murder machinery. Frank, then 11 and known as Misa, is alive because unlike his brother John, then 16, Frank did not limp. In July 1944, their father was segregated with male prisoners who were working in an Auschwitz factory. The boys were with their mother in the Czech family section of the camp when a Nazi noticed John’s limp and selected him for gassing. Unwilling to have John face death alone, Vilma went with him, leaving behind this letter to her husband:
“You, my only one, dearest, in isolation we are waiting for darkness. We considered the possibility of hiding but decided not to do it since we felt it would be hopeless. The famous trucks are already here and we are waiting for it to begin. I am completely calm. You — my only and dearest one, do not blame yourself for what happened, it was our destiny. We did what we could. Stay healthy and remember my words that time will heal — if not completely — then — at least partially. Take care of the little golden boy and don’t spoil him too much with your love. Both of you — stay healthy, my dear ones. I will be thinking of you and Misa. Have a fabulous life, we must board the trucks.
“Into eternity, Vilma.”
So, the museum presents human nature’s noblest as well as vilest manifestations. It has received 43 million visitors, 90 percent non-Jewish.
