by Sharyn Kopf

It’s often true that our passions and our history connect. That’s the case for Elizabeth DeLeeuw, whose lifelong interest in the events of the Holocaust is impacted by the stories from her paternal grandfather, who survived those horrific years as a young man in Poland.

To more accurately share that history with her students at Indian Lake High School (ILHS), Elizabeth attended The Zekelman Holocaust Center’s Summer Academy in Farmington Hills, Mich., for the second year in a row last month. The free, four-day, professional development program trains educators to teach this part of our past in the classroom.

“It’s my responsibility to tell the historical aspect,” Elizabeth said, “but it’s like a double burden because I feel the vast importance of telling my family’s story—my grandpa’s story—accurately so students can feel the emotions, not just the black-and-white history of it.”

Besides teaching English II, American Literature and yearbook at ILHS, Elizabeth leads a course dedicated to studying the Holocaust. The Academy has helped her sharpen that curriculum, which is grounded in her own family’s past.

Elizabeth grew up hearing her grandfather’s stories. Born in Poland in 1919, Joseph Treblin was the Jewish son of a financially stable, integrated family. But though they did business with the people of the community, they were, for the most part, not accepted socially.

Still, Joseph’s father, who owned a lumber yard, employed non-Jewish workers and Joseph’s girlfriend was a Roman Catholic. Sadly, the Treblins would soon discover the antisemitism went deeper than they realized.

Invasion

In September 1939, the Nazis invaded Poland. Joseph’s girlfriend came to him in tears after mass one Sunday. Though her priest had called the invasion “bad news,” he told the congregation he supported the opportunity to rid the area of Jews. And, he added, anyone who stood by them “should go to hell.”

What followed was years of hiding and suffering. Many members of Joseph’s family were killed by the Nazis during a round-up in 1942, including his grandmother and both parents. Joseph, his two sisters and three cousins ended up hiding for several years with a sympathetic family. But that was dangerous too.

Elizabeth shares several of her grandpa’s stories from that time with her students. Before the war, Joseph’s family had rented a home from a family named Michalik. When their father broke his leg, Joseph singlehandedly plowed and harvested their crops, which saved the family from starvation. They didn’t forget that.

Now, a few years later, six members of the Treblin family took shelter in this Michalik’s home, though it was extremely dangerous for everyone. Joseph dug out a crawlspace for them to hide under the floorboards, only 6-feet wide, 8-feet long and 4-feet deep. The bed of the Michalik’s 3-year-old daughter, Marishka, was set up over the space, and she would pretend she was sick. It kept soldiers from noticing a hollow area as they searched the house.

Hiding when they needed to—at least once a week during village-wide Nazi sweeps—the six young people went by fake names the rest of the time. Joseph, who they called “Roman,” said the only money they were able to give the Michalik’s was to buy food.

“They did this out of kindness and goodness,” Elizabeth said about the Michalik’s sacrifice.

As the years went by, they had many close calls. One German soldier accused Mrs. Michalik— Alexandra — of hiding Jews. She responded by feigning indignation and pretending she was offended that he would think she’d allow “filthy, slimy Jews” in her clean house.

Keeping up the pretense, she offered the soldier some cake. When his partner came in to see how it was going, he found the soldier enjoying the pastry and was told, “No Jews here.”

But in Sept. 1944, the family witnessed a miracle.

“If I needed a reason to believe in God, this was it,” Elizabeth shared. That month, Nazis gave them only a two-hour notice before taking over the Michalik’s house. In that short time, they came up with a plan — the four boys would move into an attic over the barn while Joseph’s two sisters pretended they were Alexandra’s sisters.

At one point, the Germans heard a noise — a snort or a sneeze — and started investigating. But before they reached the boys’ hiding place, a similar sound from a flock of storks caught their attention. Just like that, they ended the search, assuming it was the birds.

Finally, the Germans left, never to return. Soon the Russians advanced close enough for Joseph and his family to run to them for help. These soldiers told them to get in a truck. According to Elizabeth, “They took them away, and that’s how the war ended for them.”

Sadly, Joseph’s youngest sister and one of his cousins survived the Holocaust only to be murdered by the Polish underground after the war.

As for Joseph and his other sister, Regina, they spent years trying to get out of Poland and into America. They traveled to Paris, then Bermuda, followed by Cuba. Finally, someone offered to sponsor them, and they made it to the United States. Once here, the siblings joined some uncles in Detroit.

Fifty years later, when Elizabeth was in high school, she started researching her family tree. In doing so, she came across Jewish prayer books stating they were the property of Abraham Treblinsky, Joseph’s great-uncle.

In 2004, Elizabeth took a study abroad trip to Poland. Her dad and Grandpa joined her there, and they explored some of their family history, including visiting the people who kept Joseph safe so many years before.

To their surprise, Alexandra Michalik was still alive at 103 years old. They also met Marishka, who had protected him when she was only 3.

“She wasn’t very verbal,” Elizabeth said about Alexandra, “but when she saw Grandpa, she called him ‘Roman,’ and added, ‘They’re all gone.’” Elizabeth wasn’t sure if she meant the Germans, her family, or someone else but, “We were able to meet her, and thank her and her daughter.”

When her grandpa died in 2014, Elizabeth wasn’t only sad in mourning his death but in losing this last living connection to a significant part of her family’s history. It inspired her to delve into it more, knowing it’s a lesson that needs to be preserved. One way she does that is by making the truth of the Holocaust real for her students.

And the summer academy helps. Elizabeth, who calls it “a really cool thing,” is grateful for an incredibly knowledgeable organization that teaches with expertise, empathy and accuracy, building confidence and providing new tools as they continue to evolve.

“These are experts,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve been studying most of my life, but I can ask them anything because these historians know what they’re talking about. They try to draw more connections through stories."

“And we can use that to teach our students how actions and choices can shape the future.” ■