Henry Kellen

For Today’s and Future Generations to Remember

The Kacenelenbogen Chronicle

Experienced and Narrated by Henry Kellen (Khanokh Kacenelenbogen)
Founder of the El Paso Holocaust Museum (1984)

Henry’s Father: Moses Kacenelenbogen (Moishe Ben Yakov)

Born in 1880, in Kedainiai, Lithuania, my father had 4 brothers and 3 sisters. He did not attend a formal high school but a number of yeshivot. His Hebrew was excellent as was evident while helping me with my Hebrew homework.

After the family moved to Lodz, Poland, in 1914 my father went on a business trip to Siberia but was unable to return to Poland since Poland was under German siege. My father returned to Lodz in 1919 when I was 3 years old. After returning from Siberia, he went into the real estate business but left it due to extreme monetary devaluation at that time.

1929 – My father, Solomon Israelit and Tobias Israelit opened the LIVERNA (LIETUVOS VERPALV MANUFACTURA), a small textile factory in Klaipeda, Lithuania, with an investment of 10,000 dollars.

1937 – The entire family, except my sister, Sonia, moves to Klaipeda.

1939 – March 22. The German army occupies the territory of Klaipeda. A day before the occupation, my father, mother, Moniek my brother and me take a car and flee to Kaunas. The following day the German army entered Klaipeda. My family was not pennyless in Kaunas, since my father owned a warehouse in that city, while Moniek and me were working as textile engineers in different factories and were able to help support the family.

1939 – September 1st. Germany invaded Poland. Within 29 days Poland surrenders completely.

1940 – June 15. Saturday afternoon, Soviet tanks began to occupy the Baltic states. Members of the Lithuanian government, including president Smetona, were able to escape to Germany in a matter of hours. Monday morning, Soviet sentries were staying in front of all the banks and private operations ceased. Six weeks later, one of our clerks in the warehouse told my father that the business has been nationalized and that we should leave.

1941 – June 15. Mass deportation, not only of Jews but also those who had more than 4 people working for them. Uncle Tobias and his wife Ethel, uncle Solomon, his wife Esthera and their son Mark, were arrested in the middle of the night and deported to Siberia. My family hid in the basement of the house and somehow, by sheer luck, we were not caught and therefore not deported. In the meantime, the German army took Holand, France, Denmark and all of the Balkan countries. At the same time, the Russian army were sending tanks to the German borders. My family felt fairly safe since we assumed that the German army would not invade Russia. To our surprise, on Sunday, June 22, early in the morning, we heard artillary bombardment. The Germans attacked the Soviet Union. The Russians began to run away and by Tuesday afternoon, the first German motorcycles were in the suburb of Kaunas. Many Lithuanians were enthusiastic to see the arrival of the Germans. In a matter of days the Lithuanians began to murder Jews wherever they could, including in the city of Kaunas. 50% of Lithuanian Jews were murdered by Lithuanians.

On July 2nd, my father was crossing the bridge from Solbotka, a Kaunas suburb, in order to bring coffee to his sister who lived in the city of Kaunas. He was arrested by Lithuanian scum and never returned home.

A little later the news arrived that on the same day more than 3000 Jews were arrested and immediately taken to the 4th Fort, where they were kept in a ditch for 3 days and without water or food they were beaten up. On July 5th, the day of my birthday, all 3000 Jews were shot. Only one Jewish man returned from that massacre since the one who was to shoot him was his friend and he let him go.

This was the story of Moses Kacenelenbogen, my father, of blessed memory.

Henry’s Mother: Helena Kacenelenbogen (Israelit)

Born in 1890, in Sakiai, Lithuania. My mother’s maiden name was Hanna Mirle Israelit. She married my father, Moses, in 1903. The wedding took place at the railroad station between Sakiai and Kedainiai, in Kosidary.

My mother spoke Russian, German, Yiddish and Polish fluently. In educating her children, she was not very strict but had adopted a liberal attitude. This was a definite contrast to the strictness of my father. For example, father wanted us to go to Schul on Saturday, while mother would say, “let them rest”. In spite of the fact that there was a steady maid in the house, my mother was a busy housewife, taking care of the family throughout the year: shopping, cooking and so on.

While in the Kovno Ghetto, my mother shared a corner with my sister Sonia and Jacob, and was always hopeful that the family will survive. In spite of the fact that my mother hardly ate and continued to lose weight, she was always cheerful. There was nothing to eat, we were all starving.

The last time I saw my mother was on Saturday, early in the morning, April 26th, 1944, while Julia, Jacob and myself were escaping from the Ghetto. My mother and Sonia stood on the side of the street leading to the Vilija River, praying that our escape will succeed.

Out of 30,000 inmates, by now only about 3,000 were still alive. On July 10th, 1944, Ghetto Kovno was liquidated and the Jews that were there were divided: the men were send to Dachau and the women to the Stutthof concentration camp, not far from Danzig.

My mother and my sister were transferred to Torun, Poland, to work but because of the severe frost, standing in freezing water barefooted, they were returned to Stutthof. The witness who told me the turn of these events also said that Sonia and my mother died from hunger and typhus around Hanukah 1944.

56 years have passsed by. Me, Henry, by now 87 years old, I cannot sleep at night. I constantly think about the long suffering of my mother and sister before they died. And why?

Henry’s Sister: Sonia Kacenelenbogen (Grynberg)

Born in Lodz, 1908.

Of 600,000 people living at that time in Lodz, 200,000 were Jews.

Sonia was short-sighted, attended in Lodz a Polish gymnasium and did not have a strong affinity to Judaism.

In 1929 Sonia married Henry Grynberg. In 1937, when my family moved to Klaipeda, Sonia’s family took over the apartment in Lodz. Sonia and Henry had a son, Jacob, born in Lodz on November 21st, 1935.

Henry Grynberg was in the wholesake dry goods business. Since Sonia was a dual citizen, Lithuanian and Polish, she was able to visit together with her son Jacob my family in Klaipeda. However, Henry Grynberg was unable to travel to Lithuania since he was a citizen of Poland only. Poland and Lithuania had no diplomatic relations at that time.

1939, September 1st – Poland is invaded by Germany.

1939, September 5th – Lodz is fully occupied by the German army. The name of the city was changed to Litzmanstaat and was annexed to Germany.

Under the assumption that it would be easier for Jews to live in a German occupied city and not within an annexed one, Sonia, her husband and their son moved to Piotrkow, Poland. At that time my family was still able to receive letters from Sonia and I was able to send Sonia her passport by regular mail.

April 20th, 1940, was one of the happiest days in my life when I was able to embrace in Kaunas my sister and her 4 year old son, Jacob. Henry Grynberg stayed behind because it was impossible to get him a legal passport.

After the war I discovered that Henry Grynberg took off his Star of David, got on a train to Warsaw, was arrested, placed in Pawiak prison and shot to death in the prison.

Jacob, who survived the war, always asked me to have a picture shown to him of his father but without success since it appears that Henry Grynberg’s entire family was wiped out.

By August 15, 1941, Sonia, Jacob, my mother and I were in the Kovno Ghetto. The biggest problems was starvation and cold.

October 28, 1941, the Big Aktion took place. Out of 30,000 inmates at the Kovno Ghetto, 10,500 were selected and were shot the next day at the 9th Fort, Kaunas, Lithuania, among them all of my cousins and uncles. By lucky coincidence, my mother, sister, Jacob and I survived.

In the Ghetto, Sonia, Jacob and my mother lived together, while Julia and I lived in a different place in the same Ghetto. Between 1941-44, there were daily deportations to various destinations. By lucky coincidence my family remained in the Ghetto. Chances of survival were null since the Germans were successful on every front. The Jews in the Ghetto felt that their end is drawing near.

In January 1943, a drastic change took place with the defeat of the German army in Stalingrad. Being pushed by the Russian army, the Germans began to retreat west. By March 1944, The Russian army was about 200 miles from Lithuania. Finally real hope came closer.

On March 27, 1944, the Kinder Aktion took place. In a matter of 2 days, the Germans and their Ukranian collaborators murdered over 700 Jewish children, babies feeding at their mothers’ breasts and children who played ball. Some elderly Jews were also murdered. Jacob survived by a lucky coincidence. Sonia hid Jacob under a big pillow. When a German soldier came to look for the child, he did not see him.

May 1st, 1944, Julia, Jacob and I escaped from the Kovno Ghetto and hid in the house of Andrius Urbonas.

On July 10th, 1944, Ghetto Kovno was liquidated and the Jews that were there were divided: the men were send to Dachau and the women to the Stutthof concentration camp, not far from Danzig. Upon arrival in Stutthof, Sonia’s glasses were knocked off. My mother and Sonia were transferred to Torun to work but because of the frost, standing in freezing water barefooted, they returned to Stutthof. The witness who told this turn of events to me, also said that Sonia and my mother died from hunger and typhus around Hanukah 1944. They have no grave.

Henry’s Brother: Moniek Kacenelenbogen

Born in 1910, in the city of Lodz.

A physically strong man, somewhat of a rebel, Moniek attended a professional middle school.

1924 – My father send Moniek to Palestine to attend school. Moniek was in Palestine for 2 years and then returned to Lodz.

Upon my father’s request, Moniek, at the age of 18, went to France to continue his textile studies.

1937 – Moniek moved with us to Klaipeda, doing textile designs and repairing looms.

By Friday, August 15th, 1941, the whole Jewish population of Kaunas was forced to go to the Ghetto, where behind barbed wires the gates were closed behind us. The following day the German authorities issued posters demanding that on Monday, August 18, 700 college educated men should volunteer to do some paper work. The posters stated the promise that the volunteers would return home that same evening, after the work was done.

My mother encouraged Moniek and me to go. On that day I felt that I should return home, while Moniek continued on his way. Moniek was never to return. 3 years later I discovered that all of the 700 men were shot 2 hours after they arrived “to do paper work”. This was the “Intelligencia Aktion”, the killing of the intelligent individuals in order to remove the potential rebels out of the way.

Henry on himself:

On the very same day, later known as the “Intelligencia Aktion”, as I was making my way with my brother Moniek towards the German office, I decided to turn back and return home. As I was hiding in the house, a German soldier opened the door of the house and entered. I was hiding behind the door. The German did not see me and therefore I was saved.

While in hiding, I received a piece of paper from my sister Sonia, on which it was written that she misses Jacob. “But not knowing what tomorrow will bring, I am happy to know that Jacob will survive.”

I maintain to this very day that a Ghetto was a human warehouse in the hands of the Nazis, as though people were things to be used according to German capricious or organized whim. Therefore a Ghetto is also an extermination camp.