SHARE

Fritzie Fritzshall's Timeline

Back to Survivors Ask Fritzie a Question

Fritzie’s Survival: A Story of
Love, Courage, and a Promise

In 1944, thirteen-year-old Fritzie is deported to Auschwitz-Birkenau, where the courage of strangers becomes her lifeline. Selected for forced labor with 599 women, they give up their precious crumbs of bread to keep her alive, binding her to a vow: if she survives, she must bear witness for them all.

Light off-white stone surface with subtle natural texture

Life Before

Frida Dawidowics Weiss, known as Fritzie, is born in Klucharky, Czechoslovakia. She is the daughter of Herman and Sara Weiss and grows up alongside her two younger brothers, Elia and Mendel.

 A close-up, black-and-white studio portrait of Sara Weiss with dark hair pulled back. She has a calm expression and wears small earrings.
Fritzie's Mother, Sara Weiss
A black-and-white studio portrait of a young Herman Weiss in a high-collared military-style uniform with distinct buttons and a
Fritzie's Father,
Herman Weiss
I came from a small town. There were not many Jewish families in our town, but we were a close-knit community. We lived in peace with our neighbors. I had Jewish and non-Jewish friends.
A wide, high-angle black-and-white photograph of the Chicago skyline and riverfront. The image shows historic skyscrapers, including the Tribune Tower, with industrial areas and drawbridges in the foreground
Chicago skyline, 1930s

A Father’s Hope

Herman Weiss, Fritzie’s father, immigrates to the United States to build a better life, hoping his family will soon follow him. The necessary papers finally arrive in the fall of 1939, but the world has already shifted into war. Fearing the dangers of crossing the Atlantic during wartime attacks, Fritzie’s mother makes the difficult decision to stay behind.

When my dad came to here [the United States] immigration was strict. He had to show he could support his family before he was allowed to bring them to this country. …By the time my father was able to send us papers, the war had broken out. And my mother was afraid to take her family. …I believe this is the joke of century: her being afraid to take us on a boat that might get bombed, and then getting caught in the war in Europe and concentration camps.
An overview of Sokolowa Podlaski City Park map in the 1930s
Chicago City Park
Fritzie and her mother, Sara Davidovich Weiss dated circa 1935, Czechoslovakia. Fritzie's grandfather, Moshe.
LEFT - Fritzie with her mom. RIGHT - Fritzie's grandfather, Moshe.

The Shattered Passover

While celebrating Passover, the holiday's peace is shattered by a midnight knock at the door. Fritzie and her family are ordered to gather their belongings and are hurried away to a ghetto in Itzky. They spend a month confined within a fenced-in school before being deported to Auschwitz-Birkenau in mid-May 1944. The journey in the railcar is brutal, and Fritzie’s grandfather dies in transit.

A black-and-white historical photo of a crowd of people, including women and children wearing Star of David badges, standing near wooden train cars.
Jewish women and children from Subcarpathian Rus, Hungary, await
selection on the ramp at Auschwitz-Birkenau. May 1944.
When the trucks came to empty the ghetto, they told us we are going to be relocated. …None of us knew anything about Auschwitz. Until the door [of the railcar] closed, and we heard the lock go on from the outside. I believe that was the first we knew wherever we were going to be taken, it was not going to be freedom.
A large group of Jewish women with shaven heads and wearing civilian dresses, stand at roll call in front of a wooden barrack at Auschwitz-Birkenau in May 1944.
Jewish women from Subcarpathian Rus
who have been selected for forced labor
at Auschwitz-Birkenau, stand at a roll
call in front of the kitchen. May 1944.

Guardians in Auschwitz

Upon arrival at Auschwitz, a Jewish prisoner functionary brushes past Fritzie and the other children, whispering a life-saving instruction in Yiddish: "You are 15. Remember, you are 15." This lie proves critical during selection. While Fritzie is spared, she is separated from her mother and brothers, who are sent directly to the gas chambers.

As she is processed into the camp, Fritzie is found by her Aunt Bella, who arrived a few weeks earlier. Bella takes Fritzie into her barracks and becomes her guide to survival.

A composite photo showing Aunt Bella on the left and Jewish women from Subcarpathian Rus marching toward their barracks after disinfection and headshaving on the right.
LEFT-Aunt Bella. RIGHT - Jewish
women from Subcarpathian Rus
march toward their barracks after
disinfection and headshaving
The first memory of camp is sitting in a chair and having my head shaved. And I recall the hair falling in my face, mingling with my tears. Then a uniform being thrown at me and a pair of clogs. … I recall walking outside, and seeing hundreds and hundreds of other women with their heads shaved. … A lady walked up to me and kept staring at me. That lady turned out to be my mother’s youngest sister. …It was due to that lady that I survived Auschwitz.
A historical black-and-white photograph showing a large crowd of people standing on a train platform next to several wooden railcars, with uniformed guards present.

The 599

During a selektion, the process where Nazis sort prisoners for either forced labor or death, Fritzie and Aunt Bella are torn apart. As Fritzie walks toward the gas chamber, she and five other prisoners are suddenly pulled from the line and loaded onto a truck.

She is sent to a work detail at a factory producing airplane parts, where her task is to fit springs into compasses, never to see her aunt Bella again. As the youngest prisoner among 600 women, she becomes the focus of their collective care. These 599 women look after her, offering bits of their own meager rations and urging her to stay alive.

Because I was the youngest, 599 women shared their precious food with me. Allowed me a little extra food every day. If anyone could rest, I was the one that would rest. I was their hope to survive. I was their hope to carry their message to the world. To tell the world what happened.
A stylized compass graphic with soft pastel colors, faint circular markings, and a subtle, layered design that serves as an abstract background element.

Liberation

As the front lines shift, Fritzie and her fellow laborers are forced on a grueling march toward Germany. Fritzie and a fellow prisoner escape into the forest where they hide until the Soviet army finally arrives to liberate them.

Often times, as they marched us through a town, a window would open and a shutter would open, and either a potato or a loaf of bread would come flying out. And the shutter would close.
A dense evergreen forest with tall trees, filtered sunlight, and fallen branches creating a quiet, natural woodland atmosphere.

Returning

Fritzie spends time in a displaced persons camp before deciding to return to her home in Klucharky. Though she knows her mother is gone, she clings to the hope that her brothers survived and will return; only later will she learn they did not. The loss is compounded by the news that her Aunt Bella died just one day after liberation.

Back in Klucharky, Fritzie moves into her grandparents' old house, where she takes in other orphans. A pivotal moment arrives when her father places a call to the local post office, and she finally hears his voice. Before she eventually sets off for the United States, she stays with her uncle in Itzky.

A formal black-and-white studio portrait of Herman Weiss in a pinstriped suit, tie, and a fedora, looking slightly to the left.
Fritzie's father, Herman Weiss. Chicago. Late 1940s.
We had a train that would pass by our town once a day. And I would go to meet that train every day, to see if someone else had survived. Little by little, some of our young people started to trickle back, one by one. And my grandmother’s home became a gathering place for us all.
A weathered wooden bridge spanning a shallow stream in a rural landscape, with grass-covered banks and soft, muted tones.
Black-and-white portrait of Fritzie with dark, curled hair, wearing a light-colored collared shirt and smiling at the camera.
Fritzie Weiss Fritzshall
at around age 17/ 18;
Chicago, Illinois

Rebuilding in Chicago

Fritzie finally immigrates to the United States, where she is reunited with her father at last. Settling in the Chicago area, she begins to rebuild her life, attending school and training to become a hairdresser. In 1948, she marries Norman Fritzshall, who was a veteran who served in the United States Marine Corps during World War II and survived four years in a Japanese prisoner of war camp.

The couple starts a family together, having one son and eventually welcoming two grandsons into their lives.

It was important for me to have a normal life. I took all my memories and put them in a box at the bottom of my brain. Never to be examined. …So, for many years I couldn’t and wouldn’t speak about my past. Until I became a grandmother. My son came to me and said, 'Mom, I need to know, and your grandchildren will need to know.'
A color photograph of Fritzie in a light-blue striped dress kneeling on a green lawn, playfully interacting with her grandson who is sitting on a white cloth with a stuffed bear.
Fritzie with her grandson, 1986.
A modern color photo of Fritzie in a blue shirt speaking with a Cardinal Cupich, who is wearing a black clerical suit, as they stand under the 'Arbeit Macht Frei' gate at the Auschwitz memorial site.
Fritzie and Cardinal Blase Cupich of the
Archdiocese of Chicago visit Auschwitz.
July 2019

A Lasting Legacy

Fritzie dedicates her life to remembrance, becoming the Board President of the Illinois Holocaust Museum & Education Center in 2010. She serves in this role until her death in June 2021, remaining a tireless pillar of her community. She travels throughout the state and across the country, speaking extensively about her experiences to ensure the lessons of the Holocaust are never forgotten.

In 2015, the Chicago History Museum honors her with the Bertha Honoré Palmer Making History Award for Distinction in Civic Leadership. Five years later, the Chicago Red Cross recognizes her enduring impact by naming her the 2020 Global Citizenship Hero.

Fritzie sitting in a patterned armchair, holding a microphone with both hands and speaking during an event; she is wearing a black-and-red patterned cardigan.
Fritzie speaks to a crowd at an event
at Loyola Academy in Illinois. 2019.
When I accepted the crumbs from those women and made a promise to them that I would be their messenger, it became an obligation. It became a holy promise. And this is why I have been so active, trying to teach and do whatever I can so that the world does not forget the Holocaust and what happened during those darkest, darkest days in our history.
A side-profile candid shot of Fritzie speaking at a podium. Her hands are raised in a gesture of emphasis, and she is speaking into a microphone in front of a seated audience.
Fritzie, along with other Holocaust Survivors,
speaks out a press conference for refugee rights.
January 2017
Swipe to Explore