Survivor: Ralph Hakman

Ralph Hakman was hiding in a barely noticeable house, almost a shack, when he was discovered by his mother. “You have to turn yourself in to the police,” Rose instructed her 17-year-old son, then known as Rachmil. Three days earlier, sometime in May 1942, Ralph’s father, Yitzhak, had been apprehended in a roundup of butchers and other professionals but had managed to escape as the group was escorted to the police station. The entire family went immediately into hiding, each to a different location, knowing the police would come searching for him. Ralph’s oldest sister, however, for some reason had returned home, where she and her baby were caught and taken into custody. “Rivka and the baby will be released,” Rose explained. Ralph was frightened and weeping, but he obeyed. “I knew I had to do it for my family,” he said.

The fifth of 10 children, Ralph was born March 11, 1925, in Radom, Poland, to Rose and Yitzhak Hakman. Ralph’s maternal grandmother lived with the traditionally Orthodox family in their two-room house in Glinice, a suburb of Radom, raising the children while Rose worked in the family’s kosher butcher shop, and Yitzhak traveled the countryside buying cattle. 

“The life was very primitive. We were happy; we had food on the table, and we bought new clothes once a year for the holidays,” Ralph said.

Then, in the early morning of Sept. 8, 1939, the German army occupied Radom. Ralph stood outside his house watching as soldiers marched in, accompanied by artillery and trucks.

A week or two later, Ralph watched from a distance as SS soldiers grabbed Yitzhak from outside his butcher shop and beat him, forcing him to kneel on the ground and cutting off half his beard with a knife. They then took him away. Three days later, Yitzhak returned home, his face swollen and discolored. 

School was soon closed, and Yitzhak was prohibited from working. To survive, he butchered cows and sold the meat on the black market.

In March 1941, the Jews of Radom were forced into two ghettos, a large one in town and a smaller one in Glinice that encompassed the Hakman house. 

In May 1942, after turning himself in, Ralph and other prisoners were marched through the ghetto to a waiting train. Ralph’s mother and aunt trailed him to the gate, where all three blew kisses and waved goodbye. “That was the last time I saw them,” he said. 

The prisoners, including Ralph’s uncle Yisrael, his father’s brother, were shipped to Auschwitz, arriving at night. They were marched into a building, where they sat on the floor until morning, when they were photographed and processed. The number 37495 was imprinted on Ralph’s inner forearm. The next day they were marched to Birkenau, where 37495 was tattooed in larger figures on Ralph’s outer forearm. They were then assigned to a barracks. 

Ralph worked draining swamps. “It was just a torture place,” he said. One day, an SS soldier walked by, gratuitously slamming Ralph on the head with the butt of his rifle. “I saw sparks,” Ralph recalled. He submerged his head in the water for relief. “I was hit many, many times,” Ralph said.

One night, Ralph sneaked out, as he occasionally did, and headed to the infirmary barracks where his uncle worked. As Yisrael handed him a piece of bread, a German caught Ralph and escorted him back to his barracks, where the German inflicted 25 lashes. 

Ralph was later selected to learn bricklaying. After passing the bricklaying test, Ralph was assigned to a detail building foundations. The Polish foreman, who took a liking to Ralph, taught him how to mix and pour cement. He brought Ralph a container of soup almost every day, and sometimes he walked away from the work area, leaving Ralph in charge. 

One night in late 1942, Ralph was randomly selected for a new work detail. As the group of about 100 young men waited in a building, Ralph heard the word “sonderkommando.” He realized they were slotted to work in the crematoria, where prisoners were murdered and replaced every few months. He quickly escaped through a back window and returned to his barracks. 

The following summer, Ralph was assigned to work in the Birkenau bathhouse. There, newly arrived prisoners who had been selected for work disrobed in a large room on their way to the showers. Ralph picked up the discarded garments after they exited, searching them for valuables and disinfecting them. 

The bathhouse was only 75 feet away from two crematoria, where, Ralph said, “We saw everything that happened.” He regularly observed his SS supervisor driving to the crematoria in a Red Cross van, donning a mask and emptying three canisters of Zyklon B crystal pellets into designated ports. Ralph heard the screams of the dying Jews, and then 15 minutes later, when the doors were opened, he saw the bodies tumbling out.  

Ralph also witnessed the sonderkommando revolt Oct. 7, 1944, when the crematoria workers attacked the SS, killing three and injuring 12, and partially destroying one crematorium. But the revolt was quickly crushed and several hundred sonderkommandos were murdered during the uprising and afterward. 

On Jan. 18, 1945, as the Allies advanced, the prisoners were marched to Gleiwitz, divided into smaller groups and dispatched on death marches. Ralph trekked in the cold and snow with several hundred men.  

They walked all day, sleeping in barns at night. After a few weeks, they were packed into cattle cars and transported for two or three days, then marched to a barn near Grafenberg, Germany. There, under the control of the security police, they dug anti-tank trenches during the day. 

One day in May, Ralph awakened to discover the police had disappeared. He and two others walked into a tavern in Grafenberg, where they were given water. As they exited, an SS soldier, wielding a machine gun, ordered them to wait outside. Instead they fled, running until they reached a bombed-out highway. They soon spied a soldier on a bicycle, a Russian, who told them the Allies had just liberated the area. It was May 7 or 8, 1945. 

After recuperating for several weeks, Ralph headed back to Radom, where he found his family’s home demolished. He learned from a Polish neighbor, however, that his sister Sura and her husband had escaped to Russia and survived. He wrote to them. He also learned that his uncle Yisrael was alive. 

Ralph soon reunited with his uncle in the Feldafing displaced persons camp. There he met Esther Hakman, a second cousin he had not previously known. Ralph, Esther and Yisrael relocated to a camp in Stuttgart, where Radom survivors were gathering.

In 1947, Ralph traveled to Poland to see Sura. She and her husband planned to immigrate to Palestine, and Ralph returned to Stuttgart, where he discovered Esther had had an opportunity to immigrate to Toronto. Ralph applied for a visa and, in October 1949, immigrated to Indianapolis, where he worked at Stark & Wetzel, a packinghouse.

A couple of months later, Ralph traveled to Toronto. When Esther greeted him at the train station, she told him about a tailor who could make him a suit.  “We’re going to get married,” she explained. They wed Dec. 31, 1949, and soon after returned to Indianapolis, where Ralph continued working at Stark & Wetzel. Their son, Gary, was born in Indianapolis in June 1956. 

In June 1960, the family relocated to Los Angeles. Their daughter, Deborah, was born there, in September 1961. 

Ralph worked for Ideal Packing, and in September 1960 he opened his own company, Jersey Meat Provision. With a partner, Ralph constructed a new 90,000-square-foot building in Vernon that opened in 1991. Although Ralph closed the meat company in 2012, he continues to work full time operating the building and leasing cold-storage space. 

Esther died in May 2009. 

Ralph turns 90 on March 11 and is now a grandfather of five; he walks an hour each morning, is active in the 1939 Club, and is a member of Temple Beth Am. He has been married to Barbara Zerulik, whom he met in September 2012, since June 23, 2013.

Ralph attributes his survival to destiny. 

“Everybody has a destiny. That’s what I believe in. People said luck. I don’t think there’s luck,” he said.