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Letters from Germany - 1954 - Selma Finally Gets Married

8/4/2013

4 Comments

 
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Sara Selma Braunhart was one of the "rocks" of the Braunhart family. She gave up a lot in her early life to take care of the "old father" as he was called after mother Helene died in 1925.  She was born in Schubin in 1894, the second youngest daughter. She and younger daughter Frieda stayed with their parents until finally moving to Berlin in the early 1920s.

Some time in the late 1930s she escaped the Nazis by travelling to England, where she worked as a domestic and as a cook. So for at least a decade she took care of her father by herself, as Frieda had married and immigrated to America with her new husband in 1926. She is fondly called the "welfare aunt" in the letter below, in honor of her always helping her siblings, parents and others.

She found love later in life with George Gandel. George had met Selma's brother Theo, along with Julius' wife Dorka and Dorka's children Lilly and Lothar when all of them escaped to Shanghai. George had been playing the piano in nightclubs and other houses of entertainment.

After Selma had immigrated to the U.S. in 1946, she was introduced to George remotely and they later met in person and the rest is history. They married on August 28, 1954 in Brooklyn, New York.  Selma was 60 and George a few years younger. They were able to spend 15 happy years together until George's passing in 1969.

Below is a letter from Selma's older sister Cilly and her husband Horst, congratulating Selma on her wedding:


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Following is the English translation:

Cottbus, September 1954


Dear Selma and dear Brother-in-law!


How we were wondering about that little letter with the unknown handwriting and the strange return address before we even opened it and we thought, is there going to be good or bad news told in it, but I've never thought of receiving such a surprise. Just hours before as many other times we were talking about that you rejected more than one admirer who desired you so much. 


As much luck and health as there can possibly be we wish both of you from all our hearts. You, dear Selma, have worked your entire life and were always ready for a good deed. Aunt Selma the welfare aunt! Twice as much luck we wish you. 

Apart from that we have accepted the fact that all of you are hardly ever writing anymore, there is nothing one could do about it. We already confirmed the reception of your package in the beginning of July and since we never know if you receive our letter we gratefully do it again. Soon it will be Jewish New Year's. Everybody we wish the very best, but no more heartaches. 

Also congratulations to those who have a birthday coming up soon. 

All my love, your grateful Cilli
p.s.  How is Anna's recently married daughter?


Dear Selma and dear Brother-in-law!

After reading the surprise about your wedding I had to sit down right away, otherwise I would have fainted! Now you have become unfaithful to me after all, so I wish that you and the new Brother-in-law will have many happy years together in great health. 


Happy New Year to everybody and the best for everybody,

From your grateful Horst.


4 Comments
Laura Hedgecock link
8/5/2013 08:45:33 am

Love this post. What a beautiful letter -- thanks for including the scan.

Reply
Kenneth R Marks link
8/5/2013 10:41:44 am

Thank you Laura for the nice sentiments!

Reply
Stuart
8/5/2013 03:23:41 pm

I knew Selma and George very well, and considered them my third set of grandparents. My mother, Miriam, Frieda’s daughter, along with my father, Peter, and brother, Douglas, would visit them in Brooklyn pretty much weekly. Selma was an excellent cook and made very heavy German Jewish dishes that we devoured, although sometimes it was a relief to go down to the Chinese restaurant in the neighborhood for lighter fare. The adults always drank peach schnapps afterwards. My father and George would play gin rummy for hours. I truly loved, admired, and respected George—I wish I could be like him— especially when he played the piano. He enjoyed it so much. He enjoyed life so much. He always smiled, always dressed very elegantly. I still have the cufflinks he wore, as well as the cigar holder. He smoked thin cigars—Montecristos, I believe, because I still have a cigar box he gave me. He also gave me those paper ribbons around each cigar that I wore as rings. His nickname for me was, I thought, “Caesar,” but my mother told me it was actually his way of pronouncing “Zucker,” German for sugar or sweetheart. He and Selma were very close, and got along very well with each other, and with Frieda. They often traveled together, and if they argued, they did so in German, so we never knew. My family took a trip with them to the Amish country, I remember, and we stopped along the way for picnics. When George died, Selma was devastated—as were we all. He was so charismatic and debonair, funny, smart, and never complained—although when you consider the hardships of their lives, there was a lot to complain about. I remember them being frustrated about the German government’s reparations to the Jews, but I also remember George shrugging it off. “The time you spend complaining is time you miss enjoying life,” he said, I think I remember. After he died, Selma and Frieda became even closer. Selma spent a lot of time with us, especially when Frieda lived with us on Long Island. They would take in stray animals a lot, mostly cats. They loved our dog, Thor, a border collie. He got so excited when Selma came over he would jump and bark while she was still in the car. Once, he ran up to her so hard, he knocked her down, breaking her arm. Selma never blamed him. “You can’t blame someone for showing love,” I think I remember her saying. She would always bring bones from the butcher to Thor, even after that accident. When Selma died, not long after George, and while she and Frieda were upstate New York, I think in Monroe (?), Frieda was never the same. I remember sitting with her at the funeral home talking to the rabbi who was going to say a few words. Frieda was crying, and I rarely saw her cry. I told the rabbi that we were lucky to have Selma and George in our lives, where they would always be, and that it was a privilege to share even such a short time with them. I remember holding Frieda’s hand during the service. Frieda got sick not too long after that. She suffered a stroke and could not communicate at all for five years. I don’t remember crying when she finally died. But soon after, Thor died, and then I couldn’t stop crying for all of them. Now, though, when I think of them, and I think of them often, I smile. It was a privilege to share a little time with them. We were very lucky.

Reply
Kenneth R Marks link
8/8/2013 12:23:30 pm

Thank you so much for your phenomenal contribution. It is much appreciated.

Reply



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