Page 17 - Boca ViewPointe - April '25
P. 17

April 2025                                                    Viewpointe, Page 17
      Honoring My Family’s Holocaust Legacy




      By Ilene Brookler                                 families. The resilience of my father and grandparents   without words, my father imparted to me a deep sense of
                                                        has shaped my identity, weaving together the enduring   duty—to remember, to carry forward the stories, and to
         On  April 23, 2025,                            legacy of my ancestors with the promise of a new life in   honor those who were lost.
      the world will observe                            America.                                              As Yom HaShoah approaches, I reflect on this legacy
      Yom HaShoah, Holocaust                               On May 21, 1949, my father, then just 11 years old, and   I bear. I feel the weight of memory pressing upon
      Memorial Day, a time to                           his family boarded the SS Queen Elizabeth, embarking   me, compelling me to share these stories. My father’s
      reflect on the immense loss                       on a journey across the Atlantic toward an uncertain   journey was not just one of survival but of perseverance,
      suffered  by  millions  and                       future. During the voyage, my father eagerly learned his   of choosing to build a new life despite the ghosts that
      to honor the resilience of                        first words in English: “Don’t mention it,” a phrase he   followed him. The wall in my entryway is more than
      those who survived. When                          would repeat with excitement, embracing the adventure   a collection of artifacts—it is a declaration that we
      guests enter my home, they                        ahead. Five days later, they arrived in New York City,   remember, that we exist, that we honor the past while
      are greeted by a wall that                        where the Statue of Liberty welcomed them as a beacon   embracing the future.
      resembles a museum exhibit—a testament to the intricate   of hope and opportunity. The boxes they had sent ahead
      layers of history embedded in my family’s legacy.   were nearly empty upon arrival—except for one cherished      Ilene Brookler, a Boca Pointe resident and Columbia
      Prominently displayed are a violin, ceramic pears, and   item: a violin from Prague that my father had once played   Law School graduate, brings over 30 years of litigation
      framed chess pieces. Among these artifacts hangs a   briefly. Today, that violin hangs in my home’s entryway,   experience to her role as a certified mediator. She founded
      poignant collage. At its center is a photograph of my   an  enduring  symbol  of  resilience,  continuity,  and  the   Family First Divorce Mediation Services with the goal of
      father as a young boy seated with his parents and his four   unbreakable threads of survival.        helping families navigate divorce quickly and affordably.
      siblings. The eye is drawn to an image of a cattle car and      Growing up, I often heard my father recount his   She can be reached at info@familyfirstmediate.com. For
      a charred piece of paper marked with a stark red “Z,”   “adventure” stories—tales of  hiding from the Nazis   more information, visit www.familyfirstmediate.com. 
      indicating their seven names crossed off a list written   behind bushes, escaping roundups by playing soccer
      in German. Tucked behind this list are five 100-mark   with unsuspecting German soldiers, and surviving in a
                                                        cave where he and his family slept for months on hard
      German bills stamped with the Nazi insignia. A solemn   rocks, ate wild pears, and played chess with a set carved  Vehicle
      plaque serves as a reminder of the Jewish community of
      Michalovce,  Slovakia,  who  perished  in  the  Holocaust.   by my grandfather. My father spoke with excitement and
                                                        pride, as if narrating a thrilling childhood escapade. But
      My grandmother’s hand points toward a postcard of the   no matter how much he tried to romanticize those years,  Information
      SS Queen Elizabeth, a Cunard ocean liner known for its
      transatlantic voyages between Europe and America.  my father could not conceal the trauma they left behind.
         Adjacent, a second collage intertwines images of my   He refused to use a pillow, preferring to sleep on a hard     If you  ha ve
      son at his bar mitzvah with those of his namesake, my   mattress; he never ate pears; he was wary of strangers. He   purchased a new
      father, at his own coming-of-age ceremony, bridging the   took immense pride in his Slovakian roots, passionately   vehicle within
      generations with a celebration of survival, tradition, and   following the country’s professional tennis and soccer   the past 6 months,
      continuity. Artifacts from my son’s celebration sit beside   players, yet he was too afraid to return to visit.  please make sure the Boca  Pointe Community
      my father’s naturalization papers, his Slovakian birth      My father sought to leave the past behind, embracing   Association management office has a copy of
      certificate, and a map of Slovakia, anchoring our family   his American identity and raising American children. He   your current vehicle registration on file. Your
      history in tangible objects.                      was devoted to us, yet he carried profound loss, scarcely
         This wall is more than a collection of memorabilia; it   recalling his murdered relatives except for faint memories   gate transponder is linked to your vehicle so it
      is a tribute to the past I have inherited. Though born and   of riding on a horse and  buggy with his grandfather   is important that we have accurate information
      raised in America, my story is inextricably linked to the   during seltzer deliveries. The weight of his unprocessed   in our system. Please fax it to (561) 395-5936 or
      one that began decades earlier—when my father’s family   grief fell upon me, leaving me with an indefinable void.   email it to admin@bocapointe.com.
      was pulled from cattle cars just moments before a death-  Often, I would catch him staring off into the distance,     Thank you for your cooperation!
      bound train carried away both of my grandparents’ fathers,   his mind seemingly trapped in another time and place.     BPCA Management team 
      along with two of my grandmother’s sisters and their   The guilt of survival weighed heavily in his eyes, and



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