Ep 59: Legacy Chronicles with Donna Rosenblum and guest Arnie Newfield on hmTv

Episode 59 of Legacy Chronicles on hmTv
Guest: Arnie Newfield | Host: Donna Rosenblum

In this deeply moving episode of Legacy Chronicles, host Donna Rosenblum sits down with Holocaust survivor Arnie Newfield to explore his family's harrowing journey of survival, separation, and resilience during one of history’s darkest chapters. From pre-war life in Vienna to the horrors of Kristallnacht, deportation to Westerbork and Ravensbrück, and liberation at Bergen-Belsen, Arnie shares powerful memories—some his own, many passed down from his extraordinary mother—of the impossible choices they faced and the miracles that sustained them.

This episode reveals the strength of a mother’s love, the haunting legacy of trauma, and the unshakable will to live. Arnie recounts moments of unspeakable fear, unexpected kindness, and enduring faith. He honors the memory of his family, including a father who found spiritual survival through the Talmud even in the depths of Buchenwald, and a mother whose instincts saved her children time and time again.

A story of survival, sacrifice, and strength, Episode 59 is a testament to the human spirit and a reminder of why these stories must never be forgotten.

Transcript

Legacy Chronicles with Donna Rosenblum and guest Arnie Newfield on hmTv

Donna Rosenblum:
Hello everyone, my name is Donna Rosenblum. Thank you so much for being with us today on this episode of Legacy Chronicles: Honoring the Past and Shaping the Future. I'm here today with our guest Arnie Newfield, who’s going to share with us the remarkable story of his family—Holocaust survivors—and the legacy they left behind.

Arnie, thank you so much for joining us.

Arnie Newfield:
Thank you for inviting me.

Donna:
We love having you. So let’s begin back in the late 1930s, in Vienna. Tell me about your parents—what did they do, what was life like for them before everything changed?

Arnie:
Sure. When the Nazis entered Austria in March of 1938, my parents were already settled. They had one son at the time—Bernhard, or "Hardy"—who was four years old. My father was in the grain market, sort of like the stock market, but focused on commodities like corn. He was successful. My mother had two servants; they were doing very well financially.

But when the Germans arrived, everything changed. My mother wanted to leave, but my father didn’t. He loved Vienna—his friends, the café life—he didn’t want to let go of that.

Donna:
Were they religious?

Arnie:
Not really. My father had studied at yeshiva until he was nineteen—he was a Talmud—but he didn’t want to continue with religious life. My mother wasn’t religious either. But both sets of grandparents were okay with that.

Also, my mother’s parents had divorced when she was three, which was unusual for that time. She lived with her father, because the courts then ruled that since women didn’t work, they couldn’t provide for the children. I only learned this watching Genius: Einstein, actually.

Donna:
That's fascinating—and sad, especially considering how much your mother struggled with her own mother.

Arnie:
Yes, she carried that pain her whole life. I wish I could have told her what I learned, that it wasn't her mother's choice entirely.

Donna:
Everyone's story is layered, and it's so important to remember those details. So let’s move forward: the Nazis come in—through annexation, not invasion as we sometimes forget—and Kristallnacht happens in November 1938.

Arnie:
Exactly. And by that time, my parents had another baby—Marcel—born in June. My parents had also tragically lost a son in 1936, just six months old, to meningitis.

On Kristallnacht, my mother had an instinct and told my father to come home early. He did, and narrowly missed being rounded up with 30,000 other men. The next day she told him, “It’s time to leave.”

Donna:
Where did they go?

Arnie:
My father took Hardy to Holland. But the Dutch said he couldn’t care for a child alone, so they placed Hardy in an orphanage. My mother followed later with Marcel and retrieved Hardy from the orphanage. The Dutch, being a small country, centralized Jewish refugees in a place called Westerbork. That’s where Anne Frank was later taken.

Donna:
So at that time, it was still a refugee camp—not yet a transit camp.

Arnie:
Correct. My parents had some money, which helped. Even in the U.S., when we had very little, my father still sent money to family in Israel who needed medicine. He was incredibly charitable.

Donna:
And you’ve carried that with you, and your children as well.

Arnie:
Yes, I think so.

Donna:
Let’s move into the 1940s. In May 1940, the Germans invade Holland. What happens to your family at Westerbork then?

Arnie:
The Jews already at Westerbork became part of the infrastructure. When the deportations began in 1942, the Germans used Westerbork as a transit camp to send Jews east to Auschwitz, Ravensbrück, Bergen-Belsen, and Theresienstadt.

Donna:
And February 27, 1942—you were born.

Arnie:
Right in the middle of the war. Somehow, the Germans still allowed life to go on in Westerbork for the infrastructure Jews. I even had a bris. The rabbi of the camp was also the mohel. His wife later became my godmother in New York.

Donna:
Incredible. But in March 1944, things changed.

Arnie:
Yes, the Germans began deporting from Westerbork. My parents were split up. My father was sent to Buchenwald, and my mother, my brothers, and I were sent to Ravensbrück. Before separating, they said to each other, “We will meet again in Holland.” It wasn’t a hope—it was a decision.

Donna:
And you were just a baby. What did your mother tell you about Ravensbrück?

Arnie:
She told me that Marcel—my brother—looked like a little Aryan child. Blond, blue-eyed, cherubic. The German guards loved him. The gypsies who ran the kitchen loved him too. He had tuberculosis, and they gave him butter to help his lungs. He shared it with us.

But that experience stayed with him. He became a multimillionaire but never shared food—not even a crumb. He couldn’t.

Donna:
It's heartbreaking. But understandable. And you’ve come to forgive more over time.

Arnie:
Yes. The older I get, the more I understand and forgive.

Donna:
So then in March 1945, your family is moved to Bergen-Belsen.

Arnie:
Yes. Ravensbrück was evacuated as the Russians advanced. We were placed in cattle cars for days. The stench was unbearable, but worse was the thirst. When we arrived, we had to march three miles to the camp. If you didn’t march, they shot you.

My mother had three children, including me—age three. The Germans provided a truck for toddlers. She didn’t know if putting me on the truck meant losing me forever. But she took the risk.

Marcel didn’t want to walk. My mother pointed to a woman who’d just been shot and said, “See that? You’re walking.” He walked.

Donna:
How did your mother get you back?

Arnie:
She found out where I was being held—under SS guard. She walked up to the guard and said, “I’m here to retrieve my son.” The guard yelled, but then whispered, “Show me where he is. I’ll get him. When I do, you run—and I’ll shoot over your head.”

And that’s exactly what happened.

Donna:
Your mother was extraordinary.

Arnie:
Yes, she truly was.

Donna:
Then came liberation—by the British in April 1945. But it wasn’t simple.

Arnie:
No. One of the greatest mistakes was feeding survivors immediately. Their stomachs couldn’t handle it. Many died. But my mother, somehow, told my brothers not to eat the food. How she knew, I’ll never know.

Donna:
Intuition. Survival instinct. Incredible.

Arnie:
At the time, she was in the infirmary with spinal meningitis. But she still protected us.

Donna:
And your uncle, in the British army, found you and got you back to Holland—where you reunited with your father.

Arnie:
Yes, months later. My father never talked about what happened to him in Buchenwald. I only found out at his funeral—Rabbi Lerner from Young Israel of Great Neck said my father taught him Talmud every Shabbat.

Donna:
Amazing.

Arnie:
He had studied Talmud in his youth. In Buchenwald, he survived by reciting it—all eleven volumes—from memory.

Donna:
It’s such a powerful legacy, Arnie. Thank you for sharing it with us.

Arnie:
Thank you for helping me tell it. You always tell it better than I can.

Donna:
As long as you’re here, you’ll always be the one to tell the story. Thank you for joining us on Legacy Chronicles at HMTC and hmTv. Until next time.