Maison d'Izieu

En route to Annecy, we went to the Maison d’Izieu. This house is now a museum, but from 1943 to 1944, it was a home for Jewish children to stay in, until some escape was found for them. The children came from various countries throughout Eastern Europe and North Africa.

An incredibly passionate and knowledgeable young man gave us a tour.  We later learned he was in his second month of a training placement for his studies in the tourism industry.

This home, founded by a Polish couple, was in operation for 15 months, during which it was a haven for the 300 children who passed through it.

 

Those who ran the house also helped many children escape to neighbouring countries. But while they were there, the children led happy lives.

They were well-fed and able to run and play in the beautiful surroundings.

Most of what we know about life at the house comes from the letters that the children wrote to their parents along with drawings produced by the children while staying at the home.

However, on April 6^th of 1944, the infamous Klaus Barbi rounded up 44 children and 6 adults and sent them to Auschwitz. Of all those present at the house, only one child escaped the roundup by jumping out a window and hiding in a bush. Of all who were captured by the Nazis, only one teacher survived the camps. What made our experience especially moving was the way in which the guide brought it to a personal level, giving us details of the lives of some of the children and teachers who were at the home before the roundup.

Mario found this particular picture moving because the boy on the left, named Jean-Paul, has the same name and was born the same year as his own father who has just turned 80.

One very touching story involved a boy who loved his teacher. He noticed that every day she would call the children back to class after recess, but because they had such freedom to run and play (and, perhaps, because they chose not to hear her), it was hard to get all the children to come. One day, this young boy presented his teacher with a metal whistle to blow when it was time to come back to class. The teacher, who survived the war, treasured this trinket as it always reminded her of the children of Izieu. On that fateful day when the children and adults were rounded up, she happened to be away, making arrangements to help other children leave for safer homes. When she came back a few days later, the house was deserted, but her blouse, left on the clothesline, held the precious whistle, which she kept until her retirement, when she donated it back to the Maison.

A group of apprentice stonemasons in the area were so moved when the story came to light, they created this monument, using the whistle as a symbol of the mutual devotion of the teachers and children in the home.

It was heartening to hear the tour guide link the victims of this tragedy to victims of more recent genocides, in the hope that we may help to create a more equitable and peaceful tomorrow by recognizing the horrors of past crimes against humanity.

Wandering the peaceful grounds, and seeing Tristan and Joy play with the dogs who live on the grounds, only underscored our wish that his hopes are realized.