RON UNGER
Birth: November 21, 1927 - Tarnow, Poland
Survived: Plaszow, Mauthausen, Ebensee
Date of Arrival in United States: December 28, 1948
Occupation: Manufacturer
Avocation: Docent and Eye Witness
Testimony on Holocaust
Personal: Married, three children, seven grandchildren
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RON UNGER
by Sheila Goldfarb
LIFE WITH ITS TWISTS AND TURNS,
SEARS DEEP WITHIN AND BURNS,
AND THROUGH IT ALL WE SURVIVE,
IN ORDER TO KEEP OURSELVES ALIVE.
Meeting and getting to know Ron (Romek) Unger has been an exhilarating as well as a sobering journey. I remember the first night I began the adoption process. Sitting across from a man who was a total stranger I wondered if I would say the right things or ask the right questions. Would he be receptive to me and would a bond be created? I left The Holocaust Resource Center that first night having emotions that I could not describe. Ron, with his honest words, sweet smile and warm personality reminded me of my father who has long been gone from my life. I was concerned that this experience might be more difficult for me, than for my survivor.
Ron Unger’s story begins in Tarnow, Poland and travels to Austria, Italy and eventually to the United States. He tells of a childhood as an only child surrounded by loving parents and relatives. He talks about a mother and father who worked hard and had a decent life. As Ron talked about his father, I felt a sense of pure love and admiration. Throughout every story Ron related, there was one word that kept running through my mind: Enterprising.
ALTHOUGH HIS LIFE HAD LOWS AND HIGHS,
RON ALWAYS KNEW HOW TO ENTERPRISE,
FROM SELLING CIGERATTES FOR FOOD HE ATE,
TO DEFUSING BOMBS THAT DID NOT DETONATE.
After Ron’s mother was taken to Auschwitz, Ron and his father were sent to Mauthusen where because of their knowledge of mechanics, were sent to work in the factories. Their expertise was a vital commodity to the Germans. On December 31, 1944 Ron Unger’s father died of an infection in his leg. This infection was sustained by an injury he received from the criminal guards in a small concentration camp in St. Valentin. This was a branch of Mauthusen.
FROM THAT DAY ON HE WAS ALONE,
NEEDING TO BELIEVE ALL ON HIS OWN,
A MAN ALREADY AT SEVENTEEN,
TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OF ALL HE’D SEEN.
In April of 1945, Ron was taken to a place in Austria called Ebensee, where no one received food for 2-3 weeks. Everyone lived on grass and bark to stay alive. On May 6, 1945, at seventeen years of age and weighing 85 lbs. Ron Unger was liberated. At that time he was taken to Italy. I think Ron’s talking to me about his first few months of liberation gave him the most pleasure. I could actually feel myself in Italy with Ron, staring out at a stretch of water he had never seen before. As Ron related his adventures and experiences in Saint Cesarea, Tri Case Porto and Bari, his eyes twinkled and his laughter was contagious. He said, “I was born again.” I asked him if he was treated well by the Italians?” His response was “Yes, we had food!”
THROUGH EVERY INJUSTICE HE DID ENDURE,
THERE WAS ONE UNDERLYING THING FOR SURE,
NOTHING WAS WORSE FOR RON UNGER,
THEN THE ALL-CONSUMING FEEL OF HUNGER.
I would be remiss if I didn’t tell Ron’s story of how he found himself coming to New York. His wish was to go to Israel but his mother’s last words to him were “I have a brother in New York….1011 Sheridan Avenue in The Bronx…Look him up.” On a ship going to Palestine that was turned back, Ron found himself in a hospital with yellow jaundice. After receiving a telegram from a cousin in Haifa, Ron sent a cable to his uncle in New York. The cable was signed Romek (Ron’s Polish name). In transport the K in Romek was changed to an O and to this day Ron is still teased and called Romeo by many relatives.
I will take Ron Unger’s story and tell it to my children, their friends, and my friends and someday to my grandchildren. They will learn as I have, through Ron’s survival how important and precious every life is and that every day counts.
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