Tangible History

When I visited my mother today, I helped her carer with tidying up a room and putting some stuff in the attic. There, I found this suitcase. It’s got to be about 90 years old, and belonged to my father’s uncle H, who emigrated to Ecuador in 1938 - which made him the only one of six Jewish siblings to survive the Holocaust.

The labels on this suitcase are left over from his travels back to Europe in 1957. Sadly, he became very ill and died before I was born, so I never met him. But I fondly remember his wife and both of his children (who had survived in England thanks to the Kindertransport). And I‘ll make sure H‘s grandchildren will get his suitcase back.