Bertha “Bracha” Teitelbaum Schwartz — A Childhood on the Run, and a Life Rebuilt
Bertha “Bracha” Teitelbaum was born in Antwerp, Belgium, in 1933 — the same year Hitler rose to power. Her early childhood was warm and rooted in Hasidic Jewish life. Her father, Asher, was a diamond cutter and a beloved cantor; Friday nights walking to synagogue hand-in-hand are some of her clearest memories. The family grew with the births of her sisters Malka and Bella, and life felt stable — until antisemitism swept across Europe.
As Hitler’s policies escalated, Jews in Antwerp began to feel watched and unwelcome. After Kristallnacht in 1938 — synagogues destroyed, Jewish shops smashed, men arrested — Bertha’s family knew they had to flee. At age seven, she watched as her parents packed in silence and rushed their three daughters to the train station with thousands of other Jews escaping the Nazi advance.
They boarded a train for southern France while German planes bombed the tracks from above. With no water and no sanitation, the journey took eight days. By the time they reached the town of Villamur, half the passengers were gone. The Red Cross sheltered the survivors temporarily, but life in France quickly deteriorated as Nazi control spread.
The family was eventually taken to the Brens internment camp, a holding point for Jews who would later be deported to Auschwitz. After three months, four-year-old Bella became gravely ill with diphtheria — a tragedy that unexpectedly saved their lives. Fearing an outbreak, officials evacuated most prisoners to Auschwitz. The Teitelbaums, forced to stay with their sick child, were among the few who remained.
With forged documents and the cover of night, the family escaped through a gap in the fence and fled by train to a village where Jews were being hidden. But Bertha’s grandparents were separated and deported to Auschwitz, where they were murdered.
Bertha, her mother, and her sisters continued to hide in the Free Zone of southern France, eventually sheltered by Rabbi Zalman Schneerson, who oversaw rescue efforts for Jewish children. They lived in chateaus, barns, and makeshift orphanages, constantly moving as conditions grew more dangerous. Bertha recalled carrying food to yeshiva boys hiding in the woods and living under the threat of frequent police raids.
When hiding became impossible, they were smuggled into Switzerland at night. Two days later, Switzerland sealed its borders, sending tens of thousands of Jews back to Nazi-occupied territory — but the Teitelbaum women got in just in time. Bertha and Malka were placed in an Orthodox school, while their mother and younger sister were sent to a mountain resort repurposed as a refugee camp.
After the war ended, Switzerland ordered all refugees to leave within six months. Europe was still dangerous and deeply antisemitic, so the family chose to immigrate to Palestine, where relatives lived. They boarded the ship Mataroa in 1945.
Bertha grew up in the years leading to Israel’s independence. At 18, she enlisted in the IDF, eventually becoming a corporal. She later met her husband, Michael Schwartz, and the couple immigrated to America to build a safer, more stable life. They settled in Massachusetts and raised three children.
As an adult, Bertha dedicated herself to Holocaust education, speaking in schools across Baltimore and preserving the memories of the six million Jews — including the 1.5 million children — who were murdered. Her story spans three continents, multiple escapes, and unimaginable losses, but she carried it forward with clarity and purpose.
Her message is simple: remember the past, honor the survivors, and fight hatred wherever it resurfaces.