Posted on 03/31/22
Baltimore, MD - Mar. 31, 2022 - My father, Isaac Leib, known in Baltimore as Irvin Stern, lived many lives during one lifetime. 95 years ago, he was born in a Chassidish village in the Carpathian Mountains of Transylvania. At 16 his whole world suddenly turned upside down when his entire Jewish community was relocated to Dragomerest ghetto, just after Pesach, 1944. One month later they were transported to Birkenau-Auschwitz.
My father described to me how the train’s giant doors suddenly rumbled open and he heard harsh voices, whistles blowing and dogs barking. There was pandemonium everywhere. He was pulled from the line and separated from his family because he was fit to work. He said that most boys his age did not survive the selection. Inside the camp gates he saw thousands of people who looked to him like walking ghosts.
Amazingly, Isaac found his own father in the camp. Together they survived a brutal year of freezing cold, little food, and back-breaking work while in 6 different concentration camps. But my father was stubborn and determined to beat this ordeal and survive. Along with his father he worked at blasting tunnels, until his father became too weak to work. Once his father was sent to a ‘hospital’, he never saw him again. Yisrael Dov was buried in a mass grave in Buchenwald. Blasting tunnels into a mountain to hide V-2 rocket construction was the memory my father often described to anyone who asked about his experience.
Inhumane treatment continued until Pesach, 1945, when Bergen Belsen was liberated on April 15. By then the Jews were living skeletons. Soldiers appeared and announced that the Jew were liberated. My father used to say liberation was like Yetzias Mitzrayim.
My father helped establish kosher kitchens and organize Pesach for the survivors. He was only 18 but knew he had lived through an extraordinary experience that would affect the rest of his life. He was relocated to displaced person camps in Sweden and eventually found two cousins whom he grew up with. Their relationships lasted a lifetime.
After a year in these DP camps, my father met Rabbi Wolf Jacobson, Z'L, who had been sent by Rabbi Herman Neuberger, Z'L, to gather 30 boys who wanted to come to the United States. My father would say that with this trans-Atlantic boat trip he started the next chapter of his life. He was surprised when he arrived at Ner Yisrael to see an abundance of food and 3 meals a day.
Rabbi Zvi Elimelech Hertzberg, Z'L, came to the yeshiva and became a mentor and close friend to many of the young survivors. The Rabbi and Rebbitzen opened their home to anyone who needed a meal or just a warm place to go. Rabbi Hertzberg and my father enjoyed a close lifelong relationship. He was made to feel like one of the family. I remember walking as a child with my father once a month to honor Rabbi Hertzberg by davening at his shteibel. For many years after the shul moved to this location, my father never missed Shabbos here. I can still remember my father’s chevra who were also survivors-
Menashe, Itche, Zindel, Mr. Shualy, and others. What a warm and welcoming place to daven.
The next chapter of my father’s life began when he married my mother, Naoma Fishbein, on June 20, 1948. They were married for 70 years and raised 3 daughters. I am the oldest, and I enjoyed learning Chumash with my father each Shabbos afternoon.
To earn a living my father became a shochet, which was difficult because all the slaughterhouses were designed for right-handed men. So my father, who was left-handed, just learned to schecht with his right hand. Before there was a Vaad HaKashrus, just his name on a piece of meat was enough to certify it as kosher. He was proud to be a master shochet for 60 years and taught many other men these skills without payment.
My father enjoyed having 9 grandchildren and 15 great-grandchildren, all of whom he was proud to say, are Shomer Shabbos. Before and after my father’s yahrzeit, his two oldest grandsons are visiting Auschwitz with groups telling them about their great grandfather’s experiences there. Isaac Leib died one year ago at age 94. We all miss him.