The First Shealtiel Reunion
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The drive to bring us together came from many places; here Rob Sealtiël of Almere, the Netherlands, sets out how he came to reunite the Dutch family. Excerpts from the Shealtiel Gazette, VOL. II NO. I, May 1996.
Let me introduce myself to those who do not know me from the international Shealtiel reunion. I may modestly claim to be the architect of the first Shealtiel reunion - the Dutch reunion of November 1993 - and then pushed forward with the international reunion.
The general reception was to take place in Amsterdam. Ultimately it all began in this city. All my Sealtiël family was born in Amsterdam. And in Amsterdam the idea of a reunion was born. We wanted to gather the Sealtiël family for a festive and informative afternoon. How and where this reunion was to take place we did not know yet. Neither did we know how to finance the event. Until then, I had paid all expenses myself. But I am an ordinary man, without fortune, and I do not have a money tree in my backyard. Many things had to happen, like renting a hall for about seventy-five persons. And maybe the participants would want something to eat or drink, and then we had to make sure that everything was kosher, just in case. We did not know anything about these people who were our relatives. Their way of living was like a blank page to both Vibeke and me. We finally managed to get things settled.
The intention was to get the complete Dutch and Belgian Sealtiël family together, for the first time since the war and probably much longer. Not an easy task, if you realise that for many of these people the war has still not ended. To gather with namesakes and other Jews can still seem threatening to many in the Netherlands with a Jewish background. You have to give a very good reason if you want to get these people - first and second generation Holocaust victims - to come to an event like this and to enjoy themselves. Fortunately, the young have a more positive attitude. When the agenda had been discussed thoroughly, Vibeke and I began serious preparations.
Now we are ready and the ball slowly begins to roll; there is no way back. Every Dutch Sealtiël is first telephoned and informed about the intentions about and the value of this first Sealtiël reunion. I spend long evenings phoning. Patiently I explain and answer the many questions again and again. Then everybody receives a written invitation for the first Dutch Sealtiël reunion after the war - possibly the first ever. As the date of the reunion approaches, I become more and more nervous. One hundred times I tell Vibeke how curious and nervous I am about this reunion. How many people will come? How will I feel meeting these people?
Finally the day comes: Sunday the 21st of November 1993. As people keep pouring in, we are relieved from our fears. It is a great success! About seventy-five people join us, Sealtiëls from all Holland and Belgium, their spouses and children, and descendants of Sealtiëls. Sadly, it also turns out how few people there still are left who carry the name Sealtiël.
For the first time in forty years I meet again my real cousins Edith and Alida, two of the four children born to the sister of my father Rachel, who was married to Andor Grunwald. I recognise them immediately, and one wonders how this could have happened. But also they recognise me, and they give me a wonderful kiss of welcome on my cheek, oh that felt so good. My mother, who was ill then, was thrilled to see them again. They talked the whole afternoon I believe. Also I met an old friend from school, Coen Degen, who later married somebody of the Sealtiël family. So many met again after long years. One lady met a member of the family for the first time since the war. Neither had known that the other had survived.
It was these wonderful moments that made the special day unforgettable for so many. When I saw this I knew for sure that Vibeke and I had done something special. Even if this all started mainly because of my personal interest to find living relatives, I had never dared dream that something like this would happen.
Deep in my heart, this was what I had wanted: to meet family, people with the same roots as me. Happy people, who felt a bond with each other, and who recognised parts of themselves in each other. This applied to me too and it was a thrilling experience.
What I noticed with more sadness was that there are almost no Jewish families anymore in the Netherlands, and only a few who were Jewish by conviction. But still I felt happy and warm inside, because no matter what kind of people they are, they are all still my family.