Farewell to

Hanka Weingarten, née Wertheimer (December 12, 1929 - June 1, 2018)

Again one of "The Girls of Room 28" has left us - unexpectedly. There was so signs that this would happen so suddenly. Only a fews days before she had visited Hamburg in May. On 1 Juni 2018, dear Hanka died in Tel Aviv.

Hanka was an exceptional personality, full of vitality, always ready to help, to organize and to just do without any hesitation what she felt  was necessary to do. Unforgettable for me are my stays in Israel. She was my anchorpoint, even something like my Israel family. Without her, my travels around in Israel would not have been possible. She connected me with her friends, opened doors for me, drove me around in her car and would take care of my schedule. I just had to entrust myself into her care and relax. This was also the case during my last visit in 2016/2017.

Unforgettabl the moments, when Hanka talked about her childhood in her home-town Znaim/Znojmo in the Czech Republic, about their escape  when the Nazis occupied the Sudetenland in October 1938, about her father who was taken away by the Gestapo and never came back again. About the years in Prague with her mother Lili, their deportation to the Theresienstadt ghetto in March 1943 where they lived till they had to go on transport further to the East, to Auschwitz-Birkenau, in May 1944. They passed through the selection in July 1944 and were deported to the bombed City of Hamburg where they had to  forced labor and clear rubble. Mother and child  ended up in April 1945 in Bergen-Belsen, both were very close to death, when the Americans liberated the camp. Hanka survived. Her beloved mother Lily Wertheimer died a few days after liberation.

The encounter with Hanka Weingarten, her personality and our friendship had an enormous impact on my life. Now that I write these lines I feel it stronger than ever before. Hanka had consented to come to Germany in September 2018, in the frame of the exhibition The Girls of Room 28, which will be shown in the same place in Schwerin, where it was opened for the first time in 2004 - 14 years ago. When she was invited, Hanka

said: "If I am still here, I am coming." This is what she always replied to invitations like this. And she used to add: "You never know what is happening. The day comes when we all go."

This day has come. It is quite unconceivable for me - although I am well aware of and prepared for the finiteness of our lifes. But

loosing Hanka is hard, and I feel it is so because she and her wonderful husband Abraham has become part of my life. My deepest sympathy go to their children and grandchildren in Israel and in the US.

Hannelore