Stephen Shooster though there were no walls or fences to enforce these policies I saw posters warning that Jews were under the threat of death if they went beyond the perimeter. In fact, at this time, you would never want to be on your own anyway because the Nazis or their collaborators were always lurking in the shadows. You would never know who might inform upon you. If you were caught alone, even within the ghetto, humili- ation, beatings or death were common. Since most of the Jewish homes in the town were bunched together, this became the perimeter of the ghetto. My home was inside of that boundary. The place I grew up became a prison, and all my family and the en- tire Jewish community its prisoners. None of us could escape. We spoke about escape but, had little choice. We had nowhere to go that we were sure we would be safe. Every time the Gestapo came to town, they would terrorize our neighborhood, and demand hostages, goods, or money. One time they came unannounced and parked their Mercedes car by the brewery. It was about 1 kilometer from my home. They walked into the ghetto. This day was different because one of them hid a sub-machine gun under civilian clothing. Later that same day, I heard about a man who was just standing in his yard, minding his own business when he was gunned down for no reason. In another gruesome event the Gestapo walked into a house at the edge of the ghetto and without warning, started shooting. This was the home of the Hirsch family, and everyone was inside including my friend, David. When they entered, he ran, flushed out of his home. He ran for his life; it was to no avail. He was chased and caught near the railroad track and killed. I don’t know of any reason they raided this house other than blood sport, because they did not need a reason to torment the Jewish population. David’s blood spilled on the tracks that day, and they left him for dead. Here he remained with no burial. Eventually, nature must have run its course. His entire family perished on that day. It would not be the last time the Gestapo acted with sadistic impunity. My world did not change overnight. The rules were added one at a time like logs loaded on the back of a horse. My family and I felt abandoned as their hold tightened. A poster notified everyone: “It is forbidden to help the Jews under penalty of death.” This made the impossible situation even more impossible. Ostracized from most of our Polish friends and the community, it did not take long before we were reduced to paupers. The only thing left we could do was beg and steal. Photos of me at the time show a boy who looks Germanic with Nordic features and close-cropped blondish hair. These features provided me a kind of protective col- oration. I looked more Aryan than most of the Germans. One month after the oc-
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