My Granfather
Today I am mourning the loss and celebrating the life my beloved Grandfather Fredi Kolban. He died on Holocaust Memorial Day. Grandpa was a survivor of WW2. When he was 15 the Nazis invaded Czechoslovakia. His parents saw what was happening and saved his life by sending him on the Kindertransport to Britain. He didn't know any English.
His parents, along with the Jews in his hometown in Czechoslovakia were sent to Auschwitz concentration/death camp. He eventually joined the czech free army and went back to his home town. Everyday he would go to the train station to wait for trains containing survivors of the camps. None of his family or friends ever returned.
He eventually came back to Glasgow and built a good life for himself here, but he was always haunted by his past.
In honour of him and the millions of other people persecuted worldwide - Jews and non Jews - in that genocide and the many following, I would like you to think and remember. Never let something like this happen again. Ever.
His parents, along with the Jews in his hometown in Czechoslovakia were sent to Auschwitz concentration/death camp. He eventually joined the czech free army and went back to his home town. Everyday he would go to the train station to wait for trains containing survivors of the camps. None of his family or friends ever returned.
He eventually came back to Glasgow and built a good life for himself here, but he was always haunted by his past.
In honour of him and the millions of other people persecuted worldwide - Jews and non Jews - in that genocide and the many following, I would like you to think and remember. Never let something like this happen again. Ever.