Connecting to my Grandfather’s Music on Holocaust Remembrance Day
You can read the article, and about the musical connection between me and my grandfather, HERE
I am honored to be doing this program with
The National Museum of American Jewish History.
Please join us online, wherever you are.
“From Generation to Generation:
Remembering the Holocaust in Story and Song”
a program streaming live at
Facebook.com/NMAJH or NMAJH Website
Monday, April 20 at 6pm ET
“In honor of Yom HaShoah – Holocaust Remembrance Day, NMAJH welcomes award-winning Philadelphia singer/songwriter Avi Wisnia to discuss the stories and songs of his grandfather, Cantor and Auschwitz survivor David S. Wisnia. Cantor Wisnia’s remarkable singing voice helped save him in the Nazi concentration camp, and he continues singing to this day as he and his grandson travel around the world performing concerts and conducting programs on the Holocaust.
The program will feature some never-before-seen video footage from an intimate concert performed by Avi and his grandfather. Conversations between songs will explore the duo’s multi-generational musical connection, the importance of preserving David’s story and legacy, the Wisnia family’s recent return to Poland to commemorate the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, and more. The event will highlight the urgency of keeping the memory of the Holocaust alive, and the importance of passing on this legacy from generation to generation.
My grandfather’s story was shared over 22 million times on FB. Now come hear his story of survival in person, plus music that we will perform together, including a song he composed while a prisoner in Auschwitz that I translated into English.
This Spring, i’ll be once again traveling with my grandfather, Cantor and Holocaust survivor David S. Wisnia. We will present several programs reflecting on our recent travels in Poland, commemorating Yom HaShoah – a day of Holocaust Remembrance. Upcoming April engagements include events in New York City, Newtown PA, Williamsport PA, Morgantown WV, Newark DE, and Boston MA. All programs are open to the public, see the tour schedule for more event details.
I’ve been going through my pictures from Poland and this is the last one in the roll. My grandfather gave me this Russian hat to keep me warm on the days we were walking around Auschwitz. Appropriate, since the Russians were the ones to liberate the concentration camp. On our last morning in Warsaw, I decided to wear it to breakfast, as well.
Since I got back home to Philadelphia, I have not been able to stop thinking about a lot of things. For instance, my grandfather’s tattoo. When my grandfather entered Auschwitz, the Nazi guards took away his name and replaced it with a number, 83526. It was one of the many ways they made sure to remind their prisoners that their individual lives had no meaning. Years later, and months after he arrived in the United States, my grandfather went through an expensive and painful plastic surgery procedure to have it removed. His arm was sewn in such a way that the skin kept pulling as it tried to heal together. He could not sleep for a year. Today, still, a curve of the 6 remains. There are survivors of the concentration camps who never had their tattoos removed, but lived the rest of their lives never wearing short sleeves, even in summer, even to the swimming pool. The tattoo is such a cruel metaphor of the legacy of the Holocaust. Even after being liberated from hell, these prisoners are never fully free. How deep does that ink go? What nightmares persist? We can never fully understand, but we owe it to these survivors, and to all those that were slaughtered, to try.
Go. Visit. See the museums, experience the camps, read the stories. Talk about it. The Auschwitz Museum and other organizations like it are doing incredible work preserving the camps and archiving the documents and recounting the stories. Reminding us that this is real. This happened. We need to be honest about history. We need to be honest especially about the darker sides of humanity we don’t want to admit exist. Because they do. As Primo Levi another Auschwitz survivor famously said, “It happened, therefore it can happen again… It can happen anywhere.”
And it does. It continues. Injustice, and cruelty, and oppression, and genocide. They persist. It is easier than we think for injustice to remain hidden until it is too late. So we cannot hide our heads in the sand. Remembering the Holocaust is not enough. Stay informed. Pay attention to the news. Ask questions. Speak up. Voice your opinion. Education is a weapon and a defense against propaganda and fear. Silence is a response. Stillness is a move. I am even more convinced now that we live in a world where we are responsible for each other and we must remind each other of our own humanity.
I have such profound respect for survivors like my grandfather who felt it was within their power to shield their families from the pain and trauma of what they went through. And so we owe it to them to hear their story – when they are ready to tell it, and when we are ready to listen. Already, this trip has started conversations within my own family that we have never had before. Ask your grandparents about their own stories, talk to your parents, your aunts and uncles. Tell your children your story. Do it honestly. The things that happen to us reverberate through the generations and in hearing about them, we can understand ourselves that much more. We all deserve to know where we come from. After my time in Poland, I know I do.
Thank you for going on this journey with me, for sharing your comments and messages. The conversations have made this experience even more meaningful. There are more experiences I want to share and more stories to tell.
More than ever, I feel a responsibility to keep telling these stories. Thank you for listening.
You can read an article about our return home HERE.
Browse the #MyPolishWisnia Photo Albumof the journey on Facebook.
Hear my grandfather sing at the Auschwitz Liberation 70th Anniversary Event: http://youtu.be/ONGl0sML5OY
*To keep reading My Polish Wisnia, click through to the next chapter Poland Part II: Prelude
Wherever we went in Poland, there were signs for Kantors, or Money Exchanges. Some were regular Kantors, open during normal business hours; and some were open at all times, the 24-Hour Non-Stop Kantors. And that was the big joke between us, because that has been my grandfather’s title for the past several decades. The Cantor. The singer in the synagogue. The guy with the big voice. The teacher. The officiator. A whole life of being a leader in the Jewish community, while also having a whole other life I could never fully know and can still hardly imagine.
How can anyone come out the other side of the Holocaust and still be sane? How do you find a way to still make life worth living? How do you still find the good in people? I’ve heard his story many times, especially on this trip, and I find with each telling that I’m still learning something new – about him, about myself, about the way the world works.
There have been difficult nights after difficult days during our travels – and yet, in the morning, he is waltzing out the front door of the hotel, singing to the strangers in the lobby. Singing out loud, in his big voice. My very own 24-Hour, Non-Stop Cantor. Always singing.