Source: 2008/03/25 at 12:00 AM - Liz Ford, Staff Writer, eford@smu.edu
A woman’s journey and lucky escape It was 1944 in The Hague, Netherlands. An abandoned doll sat lifeless in a deserted house on the city’s oldest street. Hand-knit clothes clung to her porcelain body; specks of dust grayed her hair. Suddenly, knocks echoed through the narrow street and watery eyes peered through curtains in neighboring homes. Heavy fists hammered on the wooden door. There was no answer. The Nazi soldiers came too late. The Pajgin family was gone.
Today, Liny Pajgin Yollick sits in her Dallas home with her husband Bernard. Her right hand fiddles with a gold watch on her left wrist as her light blue eyes scan the walls. Her own paintings meet her gaze. She spends much of her time filling empty canvases with the striking colors nestled in her mind.
Liny was 16 years old when the Germans marched to the Netherlands. Her family, like many, went underground during the initial takeover. She hid in a small air raid shelter with her mother, father and three sisters, terrified to see what was happening outside. “I hated to come out because I knew I was going see them,” she said. “It was better than living under the Germans.”
Soon those, like Liny, who lived to see the atrocities of the Holocaust, will not be able to share their stories. Survivors and war veterans are now at least 80 years old. SMU Professor of Human Rights Dr. Rick Halperin believes that it is crucial that new generations understand the plight of the Jews and other victims in World War II. The nearly 6,000,000 people who were systematically slaughtered because of their religion cannot be forgotten. Knowledge and action are the two things humans have than can ensure a tragedy such as the Holocaust does not reoccur. “What happened in the Holocaust is not an aberration of human behavior. In every damn decade since World War II there is genocide. It’s up to us to make sure they stop,” Halperin said.
When Liny emerged from the shelter after five days, the royal family had fled to England and new edicts had been enforced. She walked to city hall with her family and was given a star to wear. A large “J” was printed on her ID card and she was removed from school. By 7 p.m. she was indoors, dreading any knock on the door.
Her father, Leo, hid the family’s gold coins under floorboards in the attic and returned to work every day. His wife Emma was young, smart and beautiful. She cared for her children and then went to work in the family shoe store. When Leo died of a heart attack on Dec. 7, 1941, Emma was left to provide for the family.
Emma Pajgin would not stand idly by and watch her three daughters starve. Risking instant death, she sold shoes to Nazi soldiers on the black market, using her charm and beauty to disguise her Jewish identity. She convinced grocers to save food for her family after specified “Jewish shopping hours” had elapsed. Her daughters never went hungry. “She thought of everything,” Liny said.
After two years of German occupation, Emma made a decision. She rounded up her daughters and gave them instructions. Liny, instead of celebrating her 18th birthday, slid on two dresses and cut a slit inside her shoe. She slipped a few gold coins in while sandwiches were prepared in the kitchen. The four women left The Hague in the morning of July 14, 1941, leaving all of their belongings behind, including her prized possession: a doll wearing clothes she knit herself.
It was a four-week journey to Southern France. Though Jews were banned from train travel, the Pajgin women boarded. “People never think I’m Jewish,” she said. “I don’t know what you have to look like to be Jewish, but people never thought I was. That helped us.”
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