Hoosier Wants To Play. Or Sleep.

Jimmy Russell at Joe Canal's

Joe Canal's Jerry Benziger

DP Camp in Hallein, Austria

My grandfather was a photographer, and one of my influences in imaging. There are 31 photos in this set, all from the Post-World War 2 era. He, my grandmother, father and aunt were war refugees, living then in a Displaced Persons camp in Hallein, Austria. These photos, and many other that I'll post later, survived to tell the story. My family took any number of side trips while they were in Austria. I don't know how commonplace that was. There was a death camp nearby, where these first few photos were taken. The caption on the back reads: "Ebenze March 1947 crematorium + mass graves Austria".

Unfortunately, too few of the photos had captions. This one had no caption.
UPDATE: My cousin, David Kessler, tells me that he has seen this photo in his grandfather's house. He notes that it "depicts a kaddish ceremony at the site of a mass grave of Holocaust victims. There's a rabbi in the photo who led the services."

My grandmother, Liza Rak Kessler, and my Aunt Ina Gershenson.

My grandparents are second and third from the right, with my Aunt Ina fourth. From seeing other photos, they may have been on a visit to a salt mine. There's a stamp on the back of the photo, and what I can still read says this: "Salzbergwerk Hallein. Foto Sch(can't read) Mercner"

My grandfather, in the DP camp at Hallein.

My Aunt Ina, probably at the age of 13 or 14, at the DP camp in Hallein.

My grandfather, outside his photo studio in Hallein.

David Kessler also helped with this: It's a card for the Jewish New Year תש’'ח, which corresponds to 1948. Also note "Kieslowicz", our grandfather's original Polish names (they were from Bilgoraj), and "Hallein."

The stamp on the back of this photo reads, "Lud. Mich. Schmidt, (23) Bremen-Vegesack, Poststr. 56, Eingang, Breite Str."

My grandmother is second from the right.

My Grandfather, Stanley Kessler. His birth name, and as his was known then: Shaia Kieslowicz. The photo is from the DP camp in Hallein, Austria, after WW 2

"A Part of My Childhood Died"

If you know classic rock, you'll recognize that as a line from a song by the Kinks. What I'm going to discuss was from my college years, but the point remains valid.

During 2010, my fraternity chapter was transitioning from Tau Epsilon Phi (TEP) to Tau Delta Phi (TDP). TEP national was in disarray, and we disassociated, and, in what appeared to be a happy circumstance, TDP was trying to organize a group at Penn State. Since our TEP chapter grew from a defunct TDP chapter, it looked like a return to our roots.

Unfortunately, the TDP group never became a chapter, and the men basically abandoned the house. The house needed work, and could not attract enough pledges and new brothers to sustain it financially, and that created a kind of negative feedback loop. This weekend, I was one of a small group of Brothers who came back for something of a final work session. We were cleaning the house in preparation for its sale.

Adding to the mess that the former residents left behind was damage from a break-in. Broken windows had been boarded up, but other damage remained. Lots of old, junk furniture needed to be removed, and the debris needed to be cleaned as best we could. In an unheated house that didn't have running water.

There were about eight of us performing this labor of love, hauling trash and old furniture, sweeping and vacuuming, and sharing some old stories along the way. Being in the house for (probably) the final time, I could hear the voices of my Brothers and Sisters, could see us all when we were young and invincible, could smell and taste some of the incredible times of growing up.

I'm forever grateful for my time at the TEP house. Since graduation, whereever I've lived, 328 East Foster Avenue always remained my house and home, and State College, my home town.

One of the great features of both town and campus is the vitality, the constant change. Some of the places I loved as an undergrad are long gone. Sadly, the TEP house has joined that list. So we ended our night with one final beer and a toast to the happy memories of the home we all shared.