Holocaust survivor saved hundreds of Hungarian Jews
Speaking with 101-year-old Abe Meth, you'd never think he was the victim of Nazi persecution, a man who once hunkered down in a factory basement working to help save his fellow Jews as rockets exploded outside.
Meth, who lives a comfortable life in Sun City, is clear and articulate as he recalls how he forged documents to help save others during the Holocaust. He was one of the last Jews in Budapest, Hungary, to escape deportation by the Nazis during World War II.
Now, he is part of a dwindling group that remains to share their firsthand accounts of the horrors of the Holocaust.
Their stories will be given special attention starting today and in coming days.
The internationally recognized date for Holocaust Remembrance Day corresponds to the 27th day of Nisan on the Hebrew calendar. It marks the anniversary of the Warsaw ghetto uprising.
Today is that day, but because it falls on Sunday, it officially is observed on Monday. Congress designated a period of Holocaust remembrance from today through May 4.
Today, Meth will lead the Hatikvah, Israel's national anthem, at Beth El Congregation in Phoenix.
Despite his age, remembering is not difficult for Meth, a survivor who risked his life and was instrumental in helping forge Swedish passports that gave hundreds of Hungarian Jews protection from anti-Semitic laws and deportation during World War II.
Long before Meth was born in Budapest in 1912, he said, Jews had been strangers in their own country, but leading up to World War II, his people were becoming more and more marginalized.
Laws were being implemented limiting the upward mobility of Jews, and by 1940, as Nazi dominance in much of Europe took hold, the situation for Jews in Hungary had become more precarious. They could not own any means of transportation or communication and each family had to share one room and use a common kitchen, Meth recalled.
For most of the war, Hungarian Jews didn't face physical harm, but Hitler's influence on the country was spreading, and fear of deportation to Auschwitz became more real.
"The living conditions and situation for us became more and more difficult," Meth said. "It wasn't living, it was surviving. You began to see more Germans on the street, newspapers wrote more about German causes, and there were more restrictions on Jewish freedom and activities."
Persecution became harsher as the conflict began to rage and reached a fever pitch in Hungary in 1944, when Jews were relegated to ghettos.
Some scholars say by July 1944, most Hungarian Jews living in the countryside had been wrangled by German authorities, and about 60 percent of the Hungarian Jewish population had been relocated.
But barely a few months into the German occupation of Hungary, Meth said, God sent a man by train to Budapest to try to stop the deportations.
Swedish diplomat and businessman Raoul Wallenberg came to Budapest in 1944 to broker a deal with the German government — offering 6,000 trucks in exchange for 6,000 Jews with protective passports identifying them as Swedish subjects to prevent deportation. The documents were not legal but looked official and were accepted in most cases by German and Hungarian authorities.
Meth and his family were chosen to be part of that group, but because they could not be shipped to Sweden during the war, they were kept safe in designated areas. "Wallenberg was the Hungarian Schindler," Meth said. "He put his life in danger for something he didn't benefit from."
Meth, his wife, and recently born son, as well as hundreds of other Jews, were kept in the basement of a two-story glass factory in Budapest. Meanwhile, on the second floor, Wallenberg's staff produced passports for everybody in the building and any other Jews they could find.
Meth had learned calligraphy in his 20s and volunteered to help with the passports. His handiwork eventually ended up in the hands of hundreds of Jews who were saved.
"My dad was a wise man. He said the more areas you are efficient in, the more success you will have in life. So, I learned about music and how to play violin. I learned four languages and jewelry making," he said. "And I learned calligraphy."
With the end of the war nearing, the tension in that factory basement in Budapest grew as Russian forces moved in against the German-occupied city. Meth said around 300 Jews huddled together in the dimly lit room as war raged outside. By the end of 1944, he said, bombs exploded around them for up to five hours every day.
Still, Wallenberg and the Swedish goverment continually supplied the building with bean soup and bread.
"We never knew when a bomb would hit our building. Fortunately it did not. But then in February (1945), the bombing stopped," Meth said. "It was very quiet, and we sat nervosly waiting. Then suddenly, the huge wooden doors flew open and a Russian soldier with a machine gun said in Yiddish, 'Jews, you are saved.' I remember walking on street, and there were hundreds of dead, frozen bodies everywhere. There was no life of any kind. ... We were free to start living again."
The number of Holocaust survivors continues to decline. Diane Saltzman, director of survivor affairs at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, said future generations will have to rely solely on digital means — audio and video recordings — to share survivor testimonies once the eyewitnesses are gone.
Holocaust Remembrance ceremony
Where: Beth El Congregation, 1118 W. Glendale Ave., Phoenix.
When: 3 p.m. today.
Keynote: Mark Curtis, Channel 12.
Details: 602-944-3359, bethelphoenix.com.