Ep 87: Raised by Survivors with Bernie Furshpan and guest Terry Kaplan on hmTv

Episode 87 – “From Paris Crib to Brooklyn Bathtub: Terry Kaplan’s 2G Journey”

In this moving installment of Raised by Survivors, host Bernie Furshpan sits down with volunteer and fellow Brooklyn native Terry “Tzirel/Terèse” Kaplan. Born in post-war Paris to Polish Holocaust survivors and brought to New York by HIAS at age three, Terry recounts an odyssey that stretches from the forests near Lublin to Brownsville’s live-chicken markets—and ultimately to her father’s appearance on Schindler’s List.

What you’ll hear inside:

• Life on the run: How Nazi loudspeakers lured starving Jews from the woods to ghettos, and how Terry’s parents endured Budzyń, Auschwitz, Gross-Rosen, and Płaszów before liberation in Czechoslovakia.
• Schindler’s factory—number 10 on the list: Terry shares the document that saved her father’s life and the nightmare screams he carried home to Brooklyn.
• Brooklyn Yiddishkeit & bathtub carp: From kaparos chickens to three-day gefilte-fish marathons, Terry paints a vivid picture of 1950s immigrant life, complete with Yiddish zingers and lamb-chop school lunches.
• The classic 2G split: Why one sibling shields parents and embraces Jewish identity while another rejects it—and how Terry channels that tension into volunteer work and grand-parenting today.

With warmth, wit, and unflinching honesty, Terry and Bernie explore food, language, survivor silence, and the fierce love that second-generation families inherit. If you’ve ever wrestled with inherited trauma—or savored a Brooklyn bagel “with a shmear”—this conversation will stay with you long after the credits roll.

Transcript

Bernie Furshpan: Hello and welcome to Raised by Survivors on hmTv at the Holocaust Memorial & Tolerance Center. I’m your host, Bernie Furshpan. Today I’m thrilled to sit down with one of our favorite volunteers—and a fellow Brooklynite—Terry “Tzirel/Terèse” Kaplan. Terry, thanks for joining me.

Terry Kaplan: Thank you for having me, Bernie. It’s a pleasure.

Paris Beginnings and an American Arrival

Bernie: Your birth certificate says Paris, not Brooklyn. How did that happen?

Terry: I was born in Paris in 1950. My parents wanted to name me Toby, but the nuns in the maternity ward insisted it wasn’t a “proper” French name for a dark-eyed girl. So they wrote “Térèse” with two accent marks—Té-RÈ-se. Everyone still calls me “Terry” or “Tzirel.”

Bernie: And at age three you sailed to the U.S. with HIAS.

Terry: Right—we landed in New York just before Thanksgiving 1954. I even have a photo of my brother holding me up to a turkey carving demonstration HIAS staged for us new arrivals. After a short stay in a HIAS residence, we tried Greensboro, North Carolina—where an uncle had resettled—but my father, a tailor, couldn’t find work. He returned to New York, got a job, and sent for us. We ended up in Brownsville, Brooklyn, on Amboy Street between Sutter and Pitkin.

Brooklyn Memories, Yiddishkeit, and Live Chickens

Bernie: Ah, Brownsville. I remember the live-chicken markets on Belmont Avenue.

Terry: Exactly! I still hear the squawking. Mom would choose a chicken; they’d pluck it and chop the head off right there. Very oy vey. We also kept Shabbat customs like kaparos—swinging a chicken overhead for atonement.

Bernie: Brooklyn gave us Yiddish on every corner. We still toss words at each other—gezuntheit, hakn a tshaynik, shmear. It’s like a second language.

Terry: I’m fluent. When someone speaks Yiddish, I automatically hear the English translation in my head. Phrases like “Gey klapn kop in vant”—“Go bang your head against the wall”—still crack me up.

Parents’ Wartime Journeys

Bernie: Let’s turn to your parents’ stories. They were both from Koźminek near Lublin, Poland?

Terry: Yes. In 1939 my mother was sixteen, my father twenty-two. They knew each other before the war—small-town life. At first they hid in the forest, but when winter and hunger set in the Nazis blared announcements: “Come to the ghetto—there is food, clothing!” Desperation drove them in.

Bernie: Where were they sent?

Terry: Many places. Both passed through the Koźminek ghetto, forced-labor sites like Budzyń, and eventually large camps. My mother was tattooed at Auschwitz—this is her number on my bracelet. My father endured Gross-Rosen, Majdanek, and then Płaszów under Amon Göth. From there he landed on Schindler’s List—number 10—ending up in Brněnec, Czechoslovakia, making armaments in Schindler’s factory.

Bernie: Incredible. Did they talk about it at home?

Terry: Rarely. I’d hear screams at night—my father’s nightmares—but when I asked, Mom insisted I’d imagined it. I became a little yente, eavesdropping at the kitchen table when survivors visited.

Liberation, Post-War Life, and Becoming Kosher

Bernie: Your parents actually began keeping kosher only after arriving in America?

Terry: True! In Paris they weren’t, but my mother’s sisters in Brooklyn were strictly kosher. They wouldn’t eat in our apartment, so my parents kashered the kitchen. Funny twist of assimilation.

Bernie: Food is a theme in survivor households—making sure children eat.

Terry: Absolutely. In elementary school I’d walk home for lunch to find baby lamb chops, mashed potatoes, fresh vegetables—while classmates ate peanut-butter sandwiches. My parents equated full plates with survival.

Growing Up 2G (Second Generation)

Bernie: How did being “raised by survivors” shape you?

Terry: We had constant sadness around holidays. Mom cried through Passover. Yet there was humor—she’d keep live carp in our bathtub for three days before turning it into homemade gefilte fish. I learned children are a family’s most precious possession—and that you can never have too much food in the fridge.

Bernie: And the classic 2G split: one sibling clings to Jewish identity, the other distances.

Terry: Exactly like Helen Epstein’s Children of the Holocaust. I protected and translated for my parents; my brother craved American normalcy and felt embarrassed by their accents. Same house, two reactions.

Cherishing Grandchildren and Filling the Void

Bernie: Neither of us had grandparents—so we overcompensate with our grandkids.

Terry: Totally. I’ll skimp on myself but not on them. I tell students: never take grandparents for granted. Survivors’ children know that emptiness.

Closing Reflections

Bernie: Terry, your story bridges Paris, Brooklyn, Schindler’s List, and a Brownsville bathtub full of carp. Thank you for sharing it—and for the love you pour into volunteering here.

Terry: Thank you, Bernie. I’m honored to keep my parents’ memories alive and grateful for hmTv’s platform.

Bernie: And thanks to everyone eavesdropping on our conversation today. I’m Bernie Furshpan, and this has been Episode 87 of Raised by Survivors on hmTv. Until next time—be well and keep the stories alive.