My Grandfather, A Holocaust Survivor, Turned 100

This past month, my family celebrated the 100th birthday of my grandfather, Louis Muller. Family flew in from around the world to celebrate this very special occasion in Cleveland, Ohio, where my grandfather has resided for the past 70 years. Many of his grandchildren, myself included, made the trip from Israel. He took immense joy in the moving speeches, video tributes, and dancing.

But life wasn’t always easy or happy for my grandfather, a Holocaust survivor.

He was born in a Romanian shtetl named Vișeu de Sus. From an early age, he had a difficult life. As a toddler, his father left the family for a business opportunity in Uruguay and never returned. Without a means to provide for the family, his mother sent him to live with his grandmother. By age 13, he was sent to Bucharest to learn a trade and fend for himself. Unlike most children, my grandfather didn’t have the privilege of spending time with family or receiving a complete education. He had to work and do what was needed to survive.

My grandfather, in the middle, with his mother and two of his siblings

In 1944, when the Germans invaded Budapest, my grandfather was apprenticing with a tailor. He and a group of other young men in the city were taken to a labor camp. From there, they were forced to work fixing railroad tracks that the Allies bombed. They worked from sunrise to sunset, often carrying heavy tracks across long distances. They slept wherever they could, usually on cold floors, and ate whatever food was given to them. Often, that meant just one meal per day. When they finished the work in one area, they would walk far-stretching distances to the next town, where more work would await them.

Eventually, he and others escaped and hid from the larger group. Not long after, the Soviet forces invaded and the Jews in his area were liberated. Upon his return to Bucharest, my grandfather learned of his family's tragic fate. His mother, grandmother, siblings, uncles, aunts, and cousins were all taken to Auschwitz. When getting out of the cattle car, his uncle tried to help his partially paralyzed grandmother. The Nazis shot and killed them both instantly. His mother and young siblings were immediately sent to gas chambers, and the rest of the family eventually died in the camp as well. Only my grandfather and one of his brothers survived from their immediate family.

Many people would be understandably bitter after such an experience. Nobody should experience what my grandfather had to go through. But he always told us that he was lucky. Many suffered far worse than he did. To keep going through the hard times, he always told himself, “Tomorrow will be better.”

My grandfather heard that Jews were traveling by boat to the Land of Israel. In order to get there, he would need to reach the Austrian border. Without any money to his name, he hid and rode on the train's rooftop until he arrived at his destination. But he couldn’t find any transportation to Israel. For months, he moved around various displaced persons camps until he finally received papers to travel to Canada, where he had found relatives. He ultimately reached Cleveland, where he met my grandmother and raised his family.

My grandparents’ wedding day

In Cleveland, he worked as a fabric cutter in a women’s clothing factory. He didn’t earn much, but he lived within his means and saved a little from each paycheck. He always taught us to appreciate what you have. It’s very easy to ask, “Why did such and such happen to me?” or to look around at others and wonder, “Why don’t I have what they have?” But worrying about the past and other people doesn’t help. He often said, “I was always looking forward, never backward.”

And he certainly had a lot to look forward to. As a child, he didn’t really know his younger brother because they were each raised by different grandparents in separate towns since his mother couldn’t afford to take care of them. They became very close in the United States where they settled after the war.

My grandfather met our baby daughter at the birthday celebration. They are 100 years apart!

My grandfather worked hard, was able to buy a house, and provided for his family. He has two children, seven grandchildren, and now 22 great-grandchildren. Our baby daughter, Livia Tzofia, is the newest addition to the family, and my grandfather met her at the birthday celebration. They are 100 years apart! As my grandfather stressed at his party, “All you can do is appreciate what you have and enjoy the good you have in life.”

They’re 100 years apart.

On January 27th, we will commemorate the date when the Auschwitz concentration camp was liberated, and we will remember what happened to the Jewish people during the Holocaust. My grandfather bestowed many lessons upon me, but the most important is to be grateful for life and all the blessings one receives. I know that many, like most of my grandfather's family murdered in Auschwitz, never got the chance to experience the life that I have had.

Happy 100th Birthday, Zeidi! You have taught us not only how to live a long life but how to live a meaningful one.

Your loving grandson,
David