"Before him stood a doctor, himself a Jewish prisoner, who ministered
to the other prisoners. 'I will die here,' my father said to the
older man. 'One of us will, but it will be me,' said the physician.
'I do not have any way to treat you, but you are young. If you don't
give up hope, you will survive.'"
So begins Harold Bursztajn's Reflections on My Father's Experience
with Doctors During the Shoah (1939-1945). [1]
Dr. Bursztajn's memoir, published in The Journal of Clinical
Ethics, was occasioned by a 3-hour filmed interview of his
father Abraham Bursztajn, conducted by Dr. Mark Weisstuch on behalf
of the Steven Spielberg Foundation. In that essay, Dr. Bursztajn
focused on 2 physicians who worked under unimaginable conditions
with very limited resources but who were able to "comfort and
even promote hope and healing."
In another filmed interview--this one conducted in 2011 with Psychiatric
Times--Dr. Bursztajn recounts the story of his parents' survival
of the liquidation of the Lodz ghetto . . . how they met, fell in
love, married--and survived where nearly 200,000 others perished.
Ultimately, this is a story in which courage and love triumphed over
evil. The filmed interview can now be viewed at www.PsychiatricTimes.com.
We invite you to watch.
Reference
Bursztajn H. J Clin Ethics. 2006;7:311-314.
by Harold J. Bursztajn, MD
I was 9 years old in December 1959 when I left and 60 in July 2011 when
I returned to Lodz, Poland. My return—a journey through time as well
as space—was a continuation of a trip from my home in Cambridge, Massachusetts,
where I teach and practice clinical and forensic psychiatry, to Berlin,
where I gave a number of presentations at a conference of the International
Academy of Law and Mental Health).
One presentation included my parents’ experiences with health care in
the Lodz ghetto during the Shoah (the Holocaust, 1939-1945). The reception
from colleagues at the conference and from the wider Berlin community
at an accompanying presentation at the “old new Jewish synagogue” was
heartening and somewhat overwhelming.
Being so close to where my parents had survived, and where I was born,
meant wanting to experience and learn more, even with the attendant pain.
There was also the opportunity to contribute to public education, as
my friend, the distinguished television documentary producer Anthony
Geffen of Atlantic Productions, had generously offered to send along
a cameraman to record my journey. All in all, my desire to return to
Lodz felt stronger then ever, and the accompanying fears I felt were
worth facing, as I embarked the train in Berlin heading for Poland.
Some of what I learned on my visit, along with its value for psychiatrists
and the people we treat, is described in the interview which you will
see. In a context of painful history, it is a story of empathy and trust,
adaptation and resilience—qualities we seek to engage as we help people
who may feel helpless against long odds recover the capacity to love
and work.