Charlie Scheidt is the author, with Kat Rohrer, of the new family memoir Inheritance: Love, Loss, and the Legacy of the Holocaust. He is the chairman emeritus of Roland Foods.
Q:
Why did you decide to write Inheritance, and why did you choose to collaborate
with Kat Rohrer on the book?
A:
Weeks before passing away in 1988, my mother told me about documents she had
saved and hidden in an armoire. It turned out to be an overwhelming trove of
nearly a thousand.
At
the time, I was too preoccupied really to deal with that inheritance—mourning
her death, raising a family, running and growing the company my parents had
founded. But I was curious and from time to time would look at some of the
material. When I did, I saw names I’d never heard, the kernel of stories I
didn’t know existed, and endless mysteries.
It
wasn’t until 2009, after visiting Frankfurt for the first time, that I decided
to organize and really understand the stories and secrets contained in the
stash my mother had saved and bequeathed to me. I realized I knew frightfully
little about my family history, what my loved ones had gone through, and I
needed to know and understand.
But
it was too large an undertaking to do alone. I needed help. Soon after
returning, I happened to meet Kat Rohrer at a video shoot about the history of
the company my parents had founded. That meeting involved pure chance and
perfect timing. The beginning was practical. I had a vast number of letters and
documents, in no particular order and mostly in German, so I needed someone who
also spoke German.
Sometime
later Kat revealed that she too had been wrestling with a family legacy but
from the other side—her grandfather was a “true believer” and had abandoned his
family to fight for and support the Third Reich.
I
appreciated her honesty. She had the burden of her family history; I had the
burden of silence about my family history. Neither of us imagined the
relationship would deepen to a friendship and last 15 years and
counting.
Q:
How much of your family history did you know growing up, and how did you
research this book?
A:
I grew up an only child in a German-Jewish refugee family in New York City. My
parents, aunt and uncle, and Shabbat dinner guests spoke German to each other.
German was my first language.
From
an early age, I was aware of being a very lucky kid: my father provided well
for us, I was growing up in safety, and I was surrounded by a loving and intact
family.
But
there was mystery and silence about one subject—the Holocaust and its impact on
the family. I only knew that a bad guy named Hitler hated Jews and killed many,
and that my father fled out the back door of his office across some railroad
tracks and out of Germany.
For
my parents and family, silence was both protection and survival. They wanted to
move on, live in the present, try to forget all they had witnessed, what and
whom they had lost. And they wanted me to feel safe and be able to build a
future unburdened by what had happened to them.
But
the upheaval that led my family to become refugees left deep scars, ones I
sensed growing up but did not understand. Silence about the past is its own
inheritance—the emotional residue of trauma passed down without explanation.
Looking back, I see how deeply that shaped my sense of self, my anxieties, and
my connection to my family’s past, present, and future.
My
family’s story was much richer—and more complicated—than the fragments I occasionally
was told. After reading many hundreds of letters and documents, I understand
far better the community in which I grew up.
The
list of surprises is very long. For example, I discovered that many family
members among whom I grew up escaped danger just in time, were lucky; others,
who I had never even heard of and were very important to my family, were
murdered, victims of the Nazi genocide. I knew none of this.
Regarding
the research for the book, after my mother died, I asked her living relatives
to write down and tell their own story and that of their family. This was both
to gather information and to try and stay connected to that side of my family.
When
we embarked on the research, Kat and I started with the many hundreds of documents
I inherited. Later research involved online resources, U.S. archives, and
overseas archives.
In
addition to factual surprises, the most emotionally meaningful research was,
after years of remote research, going to the towns, cities, and apartments
where my family once lived.
Those
trips and experiences made an enormous difference in my emotional involvement
in the family history and in the writing of this book. Having read their
letters, it was poignant and impactful to be there and imagine them in that
environment.
Before
going, Kat and I contacted local archives, historical societies, and groups
that take care of Jewish cemeteries and found people were very willing to help.
Q:
The author Kerry Whigham said of the book, “It reminds the reader that every
refugee, past and present, is only seeking what we all deserve: love, safety,
and a life free from persecution.” What do you think of that assessment?
A:
This comment is his plea, and mine: that we regard refugees not as “others” and
somehow a threat to “us,” but as fellow human beings with similar needs,
including “love, safety, and a life free from persecution.”
Very
few families choose to leave the culture and land of their birth unless forced
to do so. Migration and creating a new home in a different language, legal
system, and social structure, is very difficult. Refugees, including my family,
focus all their energy on building a good future in their new environment for
themselves and for future generations.
There
are today tens of millions of refugees in our world. Inheritance provides
first-person accounts of what it means to flee, always be on edge, persecuted,
scared. My family members were for many years stateless human beings, deprived
of a home, no country willing to give them a passport.
I
hope reading about their lives as refugees leads more people to empathize with
today’s 120 million displaced people, forced to flee their homeland where—like
my family—they have often lived for centuries.
Q:
What impact did it have on you to write the book, and what do you hope readers
take away from it?
A:
My voyage of discovery is my version of something universal: the search to
understand where we come from, our roots, and how the past shapes us.
Writing
the book changed me in ways I didn’t fully anticipate. The process of
traveling, researching, reading, and asking difficult questions became a way of
confronting a long-standing silence in my family.
My
parents’ generation had understandable reasons for keeping painful memories
buried—they were focused on survival and on building a future. I came to this
story later, with the distance, time, and perspective they never had.
In
uncovering and piecing together what happened, I felt I was doing it not only
for myself, but for my children and future generations. I also felt a
responsibility to my parents and family to tell their stories honestly and shed
light on what happened and can so easily happen again.
I
hope that readers will recognize in my family’s history the larger patterns of
persecution, displacement, and resilience that continue to shape the lives of
refugees around the world today—people who, like my family, carry scars but
press forward and make great sacrifices in hopes of creating something better
for the next generation.
Q:
What are you working on now?
A:
I devote much time and effort to refugee support and related issues, and I am
actively involved with nearly two dozen NGOs and university programs across the
country.
I’ve
started thinking about a sequel to Inheritance. In writing the book, there
were important episodes and pieces of history that had to be left out simply
because they didn’t fit within the scope of one volume. I find myself returning
to those stories, and exploring them more fully may be the next chapter of this
journey.
Kat
and I are also working on developing a film based on our travels and the
history we uncovered together to write Inheritance. Retracing my family’s path
across Europe was an emotional and powerful experience, and we believe the
places, the discoveries, conversations, and all the people we met along the way
lends itself naturally to the screen.
Q:
Anything else we should know?
A:
Many families carry silences, even secrets and lies, and avoid speaking about
the past to the next generation. Refugee families such as mine have particular
reasons for doing so.
But
I believe that silence about past displacement, persecution, and trauma is
itself a kind of harm, depriving survivors of the freedom to share their
experiences and feelings, and leaving the next generation without a clear
understanding of the world that had shaped them. Uncovering that past and its
impact became the work of Inheritance.
I
will be speaking on podcasts and at virtual and in-person events related to the
publication of Inheritance through May. In the fall, more events are planned
around the U.S. as well as in France, Holland, and Germany, where much of
Inheritance takes place.
I
am also happy to engage with book clubs and coordinate on book talks. Please
get in touch via my website, www.InheritanceMemoir.com, where you can
also sign up for my newsletter and find details for all upcoming events, and via
social media on Instagram, Facebook, and LinkedIn.
--Interview with Deborah Kalb
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