When asked to accompany her mother on a return visit to her native Germany, Chapman jumped at the opportunity. At stake was a chance to reclaim both her ancestors and her own mother, Edith, whose past as a Holocaust escapee had created an emotional barrier between the two of them. "She lost her childhood to the war," Chapman writes tenderly, "and, in a way, I lost my childhood to her." In 1938, at the age of 12, Edith's parents sent her from Stockstadt am Rhein to live in Chicago with relatives who treated her badly. Chapman, a former Chicago Tribune reporter, lovingly describes her scarred mother's decision to return to her hometown; the emotional catharsis and peace her return brings; and the various reactions her return engenders in the townspeople. (Some old classmates throw Edith a party, but others will not look at her.) Chapman's narrative is strongest when she writes as journalist rather than memoirist, letting the Germans speak for themselves. She introduces two gripping individuals: the town historian, Hans, who lives in remorse and humiliation because he failed to help Edith's mother; and Mina, Edith's family's maid and soul-sister, whose defiance and hatred of the Nazis raged in her until her death. Although at times Chapman's prose seems too sentimental, her report of a German town's reactions to a Holocaust survivor's return is moving and engrossing. (Apr.) Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc. --

Although people of the Jewish faith honor their ancestors by remembering their history, Edith Westerfeld chose to bury her past in order to survive the present. Westerfeld did not experience the Nazi concentration camps firsthand, but she still suffered because of them. In 1938, her parents sent her from Germany to Chicago so that she could escape those atrocities. While this guaranteed Edith's survival, her parents and grandparents perished. Fifty-two years later, Westerfeld decided that she was finally able to reconcile the past by visiting her homeland. Her daughter, former Chicago Tribune reporter Chapman, accompanied her, and for Chapman the journey was also a chance to learn about the ancestors she never knew. This well-written and moving book detailing their trip shows how the Holocaust affected not only the survivors of the war but the next generation as well. Recommended for all public libraries and for academic libraries with large Holocaust collections.-Jill Jaracz, MLIS, Chicago Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc. --

Chapman knew little about her mother's childhood in a small German village, where hers was one of only two Jewish families, or how she felt when her parents sent her to the U.S. when she was 12, in 1938. Haunted as she was by the loss of her family, she never spoke of it, and so Chapman was surprised by her invitation to accompany her on a trip back to Germany. Measured and mesmerizing, Chapman's account of their unpredictable experiences, and the insights they gained into the anguish and guilt of the Germans who remembered her mother constitutes a new and profound perspective on the legacy of the Holocaust. Turning journalistic pragmatism into an art form, Chapman allows each wrenching fact and observation to land in the mind like a stone in a pond, sending out ripple after ripple. No one survived the Holocaust unscathed, she realizes, neither Jew nor Gentile, and the sorrow is handed down from one generation to the next as inexorably as a gift for music,or beautiful deep, dark eyes. Donna Seaman  

With precise and often moving prose, [Chapman] discovers truths about her mother's past. -- Chicago Tribune

SET-UP AND EQUIPMENT REQUIREMENTS

For any of Ms. Chapman's assemblies:

A LCD projector
A large screen
A microphone
A podium or small table
A glass of water