A different kind of injustice

Rhonda Simmons / Culpeper Star Exponent
Published: May 11, 2007

Alex Lebenstein said after his liberation in 1945, he returned to his hometown of Haltern am See to search for his mother, Charlotte, and other relatives. But his quest ended without success.

That's when he learned from the city government that he was the sole Jewish Holocaust survivor from his village. Lebenstein said his story, along with several others, is in the German archives.

Two years later, he moved to Richmond where one of his two older sisters lived. Lebenstein said his two older sisters left Germany and moved to England many years before the Holocaust.

But when he landed in the U.S., Lebenstein was frustrated and confused by the rampant intolerance.

While exploring Richmond, he saw signs over benches and bathroom doors that stated, "whites only."

In Europe before Kristallnacht, Lebenstein recalled seeing the same types of signs - only they read, "Jews not allowed."

Unaware of slavery in the United States, Lebenstein questioned what was going on in this strange, new country. He said he turned to his brother-in-law and asked, "Am I white-"

He compared intolerance to a bushel of apples.

"You can smell the rotten apples. You don't smell the good ones," he said. "Even amongst the Germans, there are good people. We have no right ever to condemn a nation, religion or a race as being all bad. There are always good people among them."

He urged the students to learn from mistakes that others have made in the past.

For Lebenstein, getting over the rage that he felt was extremely difficult.

"I was perhaps the (angriest) man you could meet against the Germans," he said. "If they would say anything wrong or out of line to me I was ready to kill them."

Lebenstein said he was so angry at one time that if he had a bomb, he would have thrown it at Germany to kill all of the Germans, including the dogs.

"Even those German shepherds that nipped at me all the time," he joked.

Lebenstein, who works at the Virginia Holocaust Museum in Richmond, said he would never want to see what happened in Germany occur anywhere else in the world.

"What I see here among people in the United States is that they are so indifferent," he said. "I don't mind seeing people being different, but to be indifferent is a sin. We cannot afford to be indifferent."

Going home

Once Lebenstein settled in the U.S., he rid himself of anything German by refusing to speak and write in his native language.

Many years later, he learned that administrators from his hometown were looking for him. But Lebenstein was not interested in returning or letting them know of his whereabouts.

A friend tried to encourage Lebenstein to return home, even posing the question of whether someone had left property to him. But Lebenstein was not interested.

"I don't want it," he said. "I don't want to be reminded of that blood-stained land."

By 1988, Lebenstein received another invitation from his hometown administrators who wanted to make amends. But Lebenstein continued to ignore those requests.

"I told them where to go," he said. "I won't express myself what I really said to them."

But by 1994, he received an invitation to return home that he just couldn't refuse.

He said students from his hometown asked that he speak at their school and tell his personal story regarding the Holocaust.

Those students were not taught about the Holocaust until recently, Lebenstein said. When they asked their grandparents what happened, those students said they were told the Holocaust never happened.

"I didn't want to go," he said. But for the purpose of education, Lebenstein decided to return to his native land and help those students understand their history and open an exhibit. They even added a name to the school, which is 'School Against Racism - School With Courage."

"You have no idea how these young people got inside of me," he said. "They locked themselves in there and I couldn't get them out."

Now, Lebenstein travels to his hometown every two years to visit with those young people.

He said with the help of counseling, he was able to overcome that anger and return home.

"Without that, I wouldn't be here today," he said. "And because of that turnaround I am able to share my story with you."

Rhonda Simmons can be reached at 825-0771 ext. 125 or .