Heinrick, his wife and 4 daughters
Chronicle of Heinrick Zucker, b approx 1865
written by his granddaughter, Marianne
Heinrick Zucker was the most remarkable human being and a great example for all who knew him personally or heard of the reputation that followed him by his deeds. He was born in Baranoff, Poland; at the age of fifteen, as an orphan, he traveled to Budapest, Hungary, to start a new life. Even though other members of the Zucker family were in the feather business in Poland, he chose the glass and porcelain business as his career.
My grandfather married young, established a family, and sired five children. His first born, a son, died in infancy. The boy was followed by four girls; each was his pride and joy. My mother, Aranka, was the youngest. She told me many stories about the girls’ upbringing. Even though Heinrick was a very pious, Orthodox Jew, he provided his girls with the most modern, advanced education, and opportunities for cultured and sophisticated lifestyles. They all attended the finest schools, even in Switzerland, as well as elegant summer resorts, concerts, operas, and theater. If they were interested, they were allowed sports activities. I know my mother met my father on a tennis court and not by a matchmaker. How modern is that? Heinrick even paid attention that his girls should be well attired in the latest fashions that money could buy.
In Budapest, Heinrick’s business also manufactured kitchen and various household goods, aside from importing glass and china. He also traveled to Czechoslovakia, where in the famous health resort, Carlsbad, he teamed up with a partner named Lichtman and built a crystal palace for imported Bavarian china and famous crystal and glass. In the summer he spent several months in the elegant Pupp Hotel, where my parents joined him to help with the business. I spent those summer months with them when I was between the age of five and six and supervised by governesses. By special order, the beautiful Bavaria china was exported even to New York, to the “Ovington” store then on 57th Street. I am still fortunate enough to have some numbered, select pieces from those service sets that somehow survived World War II.
Unfortunately life is cruel and Heinrick lost his wife very early. I was two years old and never knew my grandmother. One daughter, Olga, died from food poisoning in a luxury summer resort. Csilla, the second daughter, a statuesque beauty, committed suicide because of her unhappy marriage; she left her little daughter behind. The oldest, Ruzsika, perished in Auschwitz during the Holocaust. The only daughter to survive was my mother, Aranka. Of Heinrick’s grandchildren, two of Rozsika’s three, Eva and Zoli, and I, survived. Csilla’s daughter, Lucy, also perished in the Holocaust.
Much before the war Heinrick had a thriving business in Hungary, until his factory in Kőbánya, on the outskirts of the city, had a big fire and burned down. He was accused of arson. On the High Holiday he swore his innocence in front of the Torah ark in the synagogue. Unfortunately, his business also suffered because his son-in-law, Ferri, Csilla’s husband, who mismanaged the shop and drove it into bankruptcy. It was hard to build it up from scratch.
In the early years my mother, who always was business minded, even as a young girl still in school, used to help at the cash register. My grandmother was also active in the business, I was told later.
After the loss of his beloved wife and two daughters, Heinrick was very wise to realize that living alone was not for him; he chose to remarry. It is unfortunate that his choice was not approved by my mother because he married someone very young, the girls’ French governess, Hilda. But this turned out to be very good for my grandfather, as she was devoted to him; she adored and worshipped him. In his later years, as the rest of the family left Hungary after the war, she took care of him totally. They survived in the Budapest ghetto; after the Liberation we reunited in my parent’s home and started life again. When we came to America, we, as well and the New York Zuckers, asked Heinrick to follow us, but he was wise enough to know that he was too old to start anew. A few years later, in March 1950, he passed away in comfort, with his adoring Hilda at his side.
Very shortly after the war ended, the heads of the New York Zuckers were the first to visit Budapest and see who survived; my grandfather was delighted to see them. He last saw Nathan when he ran away from Heinrick’s care at the age 16 to go to America. When times got bad in Europe, Nathan saved the rest of his family. My mother used to escort him to school, so he remembered her very well, as he entered school very reluctantly. His lack of interest in school really didn’t matter to his career. When he arrived in America, he built a great business from scratch.
Upon the Zuckers’ return to the States, they sent affidavits and care packages. The papers did not help, however, because the Hungarian quota was closed. The packages were welcomed with glee. The Zuckers were grateful to Heinrick, who had taken care of their family when they fled from the pogroms in Poland and arrived in Budapest needing help. Benjamin Zucker arrived in Budapest with his wife and six children; the seventh was born in Budapest. He left them all in Henrick’s care, and went to Paris to establish himself in the feather business, promising that when he succeeded, he would send for his family. My Grandpa Heinrick took on the full responsibility of the family left in his care. He conscientiously saw to everything they needed for a comfortable existence. He set up a full household for Tante Rikele and her children. He rented a house and sent the children to school. He visited them every Shabbat eve to make sure they had food and comfort and that all the children were taken care of properly.
When Benjamin felt well established, he sent for the rest of the family from Budapest, and they all started the next phase of their lives in Paris. All except for Nathan, who had fled Heinrick’s care and left for America. That daredevil move, of course, saved the family in Paris when World War II reached France. By then Benjamin’s family had grown, but they all made it to the US and a free life!
After the Liberation in Hungary by the Russian army, when life in war-torn Budapest began to be renewed, my grandfather visited us all the time, climbing up the staircase and spending valuable time, having valuable conversations about the ebb and flow of life. He never lost his faith. Despite his very deep religious beliefs and customs, he was also very practical. We were all starving, so we ate any food that came our way. Once I saw my grandfather eating a slice of bacon. That left such an impression on me, because according to Jewish law preserving life in the most important thing. In my mind, from that day I gave up keeping kosher, for practical reasons. I never forgot that sacrilege due to the necessity to survive.
Two years after the liberation in 1945, my husband and I made our decision. Our dream came to fruition and we arrived to freedom in America. It was almost impossibly, but I knew that after having survived Nazism, I did not want to live under Communism, or raise a family in Hungary. So, with total secrecy, on December 31, 1946, we packed up our belongings. After traveling around Europe and acquiring transit visas, we arrived in the New York harbor on a snowy February morning, on a Swedish boat, seeing my symbol of freedom – the Statue of Liberty! We arrived to the royal welcome of the “Zucker clan,” that had received the hospitality of Heinrick, who took such princely care of the family during their stay in Budapest.
Both Nathan and Charles were married to outstanding ladies, Pauline and Lottie, who welcomed us at the New York pier with outstretched arms. From that moment on we became part of the Zuckers, a large family! How lucky we were! We belonged!
Among grandfather’s many good deeds, he also made lots of practical inventions. One was a can-opener that got patented. Another was a gadget for eating a peach without removing the pit. His mind worked in many directions, but it was his strong faith that kept him going.
My first child, Ronald, was born as a US citizen on November 8, 1947, to his proud, stateless parents. We named him in Hebrew “Yitzhok ben Moishe” and from then on, my grandfather, in his numerous letters to me, referred to my baby as “princely Yitzchokel.” So from far-away Hungary my son became a Jewish prince. Leave it to my proud grandfather!
Chronicled in 2012 by loving granddaughter, Marianne.