The Beginnings of an Interview with Isidor Pinkasovitch

He doesn’t know why his family lived there, but Isidor Pinkasovitch remembers living in a little shack with his mom, dad and brother. The small “shed” had two rooms, one used by day and the other by night. Pinkasovitch, now called Dave Lux, remembers a larger house on the top of a large grassy hill. He theorizes that his family must have lived in a barn owned by the farmer. But why? In Slovakia of the late 1930s, observant Jews didn’t live in the “middle of no where.” They stayed in large urban centers.

Pinkasovitch will never know exactly why or how his family lived on the large farm, distant from all neighbors. He hasn’t seen or spoken to his parents since he was six years old, since he boarded the train. But, he still has the questions. He theorizes that the Slovakian military tried to draft his father, Mordecai. Instead of joining the army, however, the older Pinkasovitch moved his family beyond the army’s grasp. So, he thought.

Then one day, while Isidor’s father was away at work, he, his mother, Esther, and his older brother, XXX, were paid a visit by a couple of soldiers. Can you imagine being the mother of two small boys, all of the sudden hearing a knock at the door. You answer the door, only to be pushed aside by three large men with guns. You stand there helplessly and horrified as the unwelcome visitors rummage through your few possessions. Pinkasovitch rationalizes that these soldiers obviously enjoyed the power of abusing Jews. What would these soldiers have expected to find in a small shed run down shed?

After his father returned home, Pinkasovitch remembers quickly packing their belongings aboard a buggy that they did not own. He reckons that the farmer who owned the land loaned his father the horse and buggy. He’ll never really know. He’s got no one to ask.

Regardless of the reasons, in Isidor’s next memory, he and his family are living in a two or three story building with countless other families. Slovakian guards “protected” the building. The guards weren’t mean; they were just there. Unlike the shed that the family had recently left, this building had indoor plumbing. Though the families cramped in together, Pinkosovitch remembers taking day trips with other kids.

He clearly remembers a blond lady who came and visited his parents. Though he didn’t know it at the time, the nameless lady’s mission was anything but simple: convince parents to send their children away. This lady likely warned that war would break out any day. The Germans had already moved in and they were determined to go beyond the lands of Czechoslovakia. She certainly informed the older Pinkasovitches that Hitler had publicized his plans to kill Jews. If they took their visitor up on her offer, they could save their children’s lives. Of course, this meant putting two young boys on a train, alone.

Pinkasovitch doesn’t know how many times the lady visited. But he knows she must have visited more than once. She couldn’t have possibly convinced his parents to send him away in just one visit, he theorizes. He doesn’t know why his parents agreed to let him and his brother go. What were they thinking? What did they say to one another? The Pinkasovitch boys were the only ones from the building to go. All the other parents refused. Why were Mr. and Mrs. Pinkasovitch different?