War Orphan in San Francisco: Letters Link a Family Scattered by World War II

Imagine yourself in an old attic. A dusty trunk beckons from the corner and you crawl over to it, aware that the attic and the trunk don't belong to you. But your curiosity overpowers your propriety and you open it to discover it brimming with intimate letters and photographs of a family from a time and place foreign to your own. Such is the wealth of experience awaiting you in Phyllis Mattson's memoir of her childhood surviving the Nazi holocaust. She sets the scene - Vienna just before Nazi takeover - and introduces us to her humble, but proud Jewish family. As a child she witnesses the march of Nazis into Vienna and hears the "Christkiller" chants. A dark cloud of fear settles over her family and friends as parents begin desperate efforts to get their children out of Austria on a Kindertransport - to the safety of Britain or the US. Through letters and photographs, we wake with Phyllis to the terrors of Kristallnacht, as her family is dragged from their apartment by Hitler's SS. When her father is taken to prison the real horror starts. Her mother frantically pleads with relatives in San Francisco to take Phyllis in and, when they agree, mother and daughter part at the train station, never to see each other again. Phyllis arrives in New York and struggles to learn a new name, a new language, a new country, leaving behind all her traditions. Five days alone on a train, unable to communicate to anyone, finally brings her to San Francisco. Only letters bind this extended family across oceans and time and Phyllis makes you eager to turn the page, read the next words from father, mother, friends and relatives, and her own letters. In a quiet child's voice you hear the resilience of the human spirit, to not just survive, but to thrive in a new home of challenges. With a teacher's objectivity, Phyllis recalls world-shattering political events through her own ten year-old eyes. She frequently admits her adult memories either clash with her own written words as a child, or don't exist at all. Her own awareness that she has psychologically buried memories makes the child's letters even more poignant. I strongly recommend this book to any student of WWII, but I believe all freedom-loving people would be touched by this story of survival and the bond of family.

I have known Phyllis for about a year, have heard her speak to middle and high school students several times, and thought I knew what would be in the book. I was wrong. This is a story of a young girl growing up in the most unstable of times. It is written with truth and honesty, and makes Phyllis a three-dimensional person to the reader. I highly recommend it!

You wouldn't expect a war story to leave you smiling, but that is what Phyllis Mattson's "War Orphan in San Francisco" does. It is a surprisingly upbeat story of 10-year-old "stateless" Felicitas Finkel sent to safety in the U.S. by her parents in Austria in WWII. It is drawn from letters and a few photos kept for years in a box in the garage, a box like many of us probably have in a corner somewhere, with stories too sad or scary to bring out very often--but when we do, we find stories of adventure, bravery, growth, dreams, and all the joys of life mixed in with the sad, scary parts. As an English teacher, I am interested in letters. They record events and feelings and reflect our growth. They catalog our special story and place us in the world. They are evidence that we lived. As I sit at my computer writing email that is delivered instantly, I appreciate the time and effort people spent writing letters to maintain ties. They wrote during war when paper and pencil were difficult to get, going from edge to edge on pages of thin paper, knowing that the messages might take weeks or months to arrive, and might arrive with pieces cut out, or not arrive at all. They wrote because the connections were important to them. And they are important today because they record the world as it was, with the dailiness and details of how people survived, and suggest where we might go next. Felicitas / Phyllis's mother told her not to cry, to be brave, and to "write to me and Papa weekly, giving all the details." Phyllis's letter writing started in 1940, when she arrived in San Francisco, and continued through 1946, when her father was finally able to join her in San Francisco. Her mother's letters stopped in 1942, and the reader feels 12-year-old Phyllis avoiding the obvious conclusion, stepping around the larger-world facts, and continuing to write to her Papa, "giving all the details," while avoiding the big picture. Reflections by the adult Phyllis are wonderfully insightful. The adult wonders why she and her father never mentioned the lack of letters from her mother. Even years later, things hinted in the letters remained unresolved. Sometimes the letters give the bare bones of what was happening, and details are filled in by Phyllis today; sometimes, there is nothing beyond the letter. In her first year, Phyllis went from speaking no English to speaking, reading, and writing English and her mother, in a letter, implored her to not forget her German. Today, Phyllis has published articles and a technical book in English yet had to get a German translator for her treasured letters written in German. The family always signed their letters with endearments--love, hugs, lots of kisses, millions and millions of hugs; yet other everyday feelings are side-by-side in the letters, as when her father wrote: "... Much as I like reading your letters, however there is always something in it that I do not like. For instance in today's letter the language used by yo

As we celebrate the 60th anniversary of the Liberation of Auswitz and Buchanwald, remembering those who perished and survived the Holocaust, Phyllis Mattson's memior becomes all the more important. This book is a must-read for our youth, who need to learn about the atrocities of WW II, not from a dull history text, but from the memories of a girl their own age, in her own voice. History comes alive in Mattson's personal story of separation, loss and survival. A compelling read for adults, also, this book not only offers a poignant personal war story, but also serves as a larger symbol of the personal effects of war on the innocent. I can see this book being used in high school and college history classes across the country.

Reading the letters to and from her family provided the story of this writer's poignant journey from war-torn Europe to San Francisco and her valiant struggle to make sense of her world. It read as if I had slipped into her shoes and lived a life other than my own. There are some parallels to Anne Frank, but Anne at least had her family for support. Phyllis had only her letters for comfort -- sometimes they were more critical than supportive. Phyllis' struggle to become a self-confident adult was amazing. I highly recommend this for a good read. You might want to have a Kleenex handy.