Lindsey+H.

Lindsey Hilts Sally Eisner-Hiding My name is Sally Eisner. Born Sally Baran, I lived a very nice life in Poland with my parents and younger brother, until the Nazis came and destroyed it. At first, the Nazis sent us to the ghettos and then they sent us to a small labor camp where we worked in harsh conditions all day long. I lost my parents at one of these camps. That day I had no idea what was going on, but everyone at the camp was forced to dig a mass grave. My parents along with many others were told to take of f their clothes and line-up. One-by-one, they were shot. My brother (thirteen at the time) saw my parents lying in the grave and ran away, luckily, two days later I found him. We stayed in this same camp until the liberation of our labor camp by the Russian Army in March 1944. One memory I have is of a time in December 1943 when my brother and I hid under a bed from the Ukrainian police. My brother and I were working and hiding with a Gentile family who lived and worked on a small farm. I helped out around the house and my brother helped with the yard and stables. One afternoon, I noticed some Ukrainian police down the road and rushed outside to grab my brother. I grabbed my brother's hand pulled him inside and pushed him and myself under the huge peasant bed in the house to hide with the many other items that were stored there. We stayed as quiet as we could trying not to make one little peep. We heard them open the door and they started searching the house. Then, they came into the room where we were hiding. They poked their bayonets under the bed jabbing into the empty spaces and picking up boots and shoes that were stored under the bed. At one point, the knife touched my skin, but we kept as quiet and still as we possibly could. When they were convinced we weren’t there, they left and checked the cellar. After a while, they finally left the house. Still, we remained hidden under the bed, too afraid to come out. When the family we were staying with came home, we told them what had happened, and they kicked us out. We were left wondering for about four days and eventually ended up in a labor camp.

This is about my dad, Jeff Hilts, who survived a car accident when he was 15 years old. media type="file" key="lindsey.mp3" width="240" height="20"