In loving memory of Yona (Jona) Goldrich (formerly Goldreich)
by Andrea Cayton
On a bitter summer day in 1942, Jona’s mother hugged him tightly. She could hardly bear to let Jona and Bumek (his younger brother) out of her embrace. Urgently, Jona’s father hastened the boys’ goodbyes to their parents and older brother, Eizo. It was time for the children to try their daring escape to Hungary with the help of a smuggler. In preparation for the trip, Jona’s father insisted the boys change their appearance to look like gentiles so they would not arouse suspicion. Jona never forgot the day of his departure. In the morning, his mother made sure he was dressed properly for the cold Ukraine nights. She guided his hand across the hidden pockets, and he could feel the concealed gold chains and rings. She had packed their knapsack with bread, cheese, a few pieces of clothing, his report card from school, and family pictures.
It was midday and time to leave. Jona’s father would walk with them to the next village until they successfully met the smuggler and another young boy named Jacob. Now it was time for Jona’s father to return home and let the boys begin their long trek to Hungary. The smuggler instructed the boys to walk in a single line. He led the way, followed by Bumek, Jona and Jacob, each in the footsteps of the one in front of him. All night long they marched along paths leading through the forest with no rest. Jona concentrated on his steps and made sure to stay close to his little brother who walked in front of him. Jona’s leg muscles hurt yet he did not make a sound. When the first light came up, the smuggler stopped. He told them to get off the path and hide inside a thicket. “you’ll hide here all day,” he ordered them. “I am leaving and will be back at nightfall.” He quickly disappeared among the trees.
Jona could not fall asleep as he anxiously waited all day for the smuggler to return. Maybe the smuggler had changed his mind and would not come back. Every whisper of the wind frightened him. He jumped with horror at every moving shadow. All day he carefully watched over his little brother. Eventually the smuggler returned, and the journey continued. Night after night they marched onward, hiding during the day. On the sixth day the smuggler informed them, “tonight we cross the border. After we cross the border, there will be Hungarian soldiers and you must not speak a word of Yiddish.”
The remainder of the trip would be by train, to the town of Mukachevo. The smuggler feared the boys would be identified as Jews and told them to board the train separately, they were to stay apart and remain hidden from the conductor’s eyes. The trip took all night and many of the Hungarian soldiers were drunk allowing Jona to disappear into a crowded railcar and remain invisible. When the train stopped in the morning at the Mukachevo station, Jona rushed to find his brother. Together, the brothers pushed through the drunken soldiers’ sweaty bodies and stepped off the train onto the platform. With a sign of relief, they spotted the smuggler and Jacob.
Jona and his brother were taken to their cousin’s bicycle shop, but life in Mukachevo presented a whole set of dangers. Neither Jona or his brother spoke Hungarian and speaking Yiddish would immediately reveal them as Jews. The relatives they stayed with were taking a great risk by hiding the boys. A month had passed and there was still no news from Jona’s parents. Jona decided it was time to move to a larger city, where hopefully they would be more anonymous. Jona used the jewelry his mother had sewn into his clothes to purchase two tickets to Budapest and paid a young Jewish man to escort them on their journey. While waiting for word from their parents the boys hid in Synagogues during the day and were fed by the generosity of local Jews.
As time passed, more refugees arrived from Poland and Jona eventually got word that his parents and older brother had managed to cross the border safely but were soon betrayed by Jewish collaborators and captured by the Nazis. Jona knew from this point on it was his responsibility to get himself and his brother to safety. He heard a rumor that the British government had arranged with the Hungarians to exchange Hungarian war prisoners for 50 Jewish orphans who would be transported to Palestine. Each day Jona would visit the Palestine Office (the administrative center of the local Zionist movement). He argued his case with the clerks, but the rules were not in his favor. As a last-ditch effort, Jona met with the head of the office (Moshe Krauss) to explain his situation. Initially Krauss was unmoved, but when Jona explained that his little brother was to be celebrating his Bar Mitzvah that week, Krauss’ attitude suddenly changed: “Let our enemies be destroyed in wrath,” he said. Krauss finally agreed to allow both Jona and his brother on the train and provided forged documents to pose as Hungarians.
By January of 1943, the boys finally arrived in Haifa and were placed in a children’s shelter. One day they had a surprise visitor, their uncle had managed to track them down. Over time with the help of his uncle, Jona began working, learned to speak Hebrew, studied engineering, and joined the local labor movement. He later joined the Haganah’s maritime forces which led to a position in the Israeli Navy.
In 1951, Jona went to work for Zim, Israel’s first shipping line. Due to a labor dispute, he soon found himself stranded in the United States and on the advice of a local Israeli diplomat, he applied for a temporary visa and decided to stay for six months. After odd jobs as a mechanic and window installer, he began a construction clean-up business that would eventually grow to become Goldrich and Kest Industries. He married in 1960 and had two daughters. Six months had turned into a lifetime in California.
Jona passed away in June 2016.
