Rav Lismann was born in the nearby community of Seligenstadt, and moved to Gelnhausen after his marriage to Olga/Olk Kirchhain. We believe she probably has six generations of ancestors buried in Gelnhausen’s Jewish cemetery.

The earliest existing matzeivah of her family (and ours) is that of her great-great-grandparents who share a gravestone, Jehudi (Löb) Halevi, who died in 1699, and his wife Schönle, who died in 1695. Until that time, Jews were not allowed to fence in their batei chayim, which may explain why we only know of six generations of matzeivos.

Olga’s father Chaim was a wealthy man who wanted a talmid chacham for a son-in-law. He offered to support the young couple, and in fact, Olga seems to have had a talent for business herself, allowing her husband to learn and teach Torah all his life. He taught Kabbalah in the Yeshivah of Gelnhausen, and was a contemporary of the rav at the time, Rabbi Shmuel ben Yehuda Halevi Warburg, famous for his “magic wand” that produced sparks, and that he used to protect the community from outside attackers.

Gelnhausen experienced several dark periods. In 1349, all the Jews were collected in the church courtyard and burned to death. In 1576, they were expelled. On November 1, 1938, the Nazi propaganda newspaper Kinzigwacht headlined, “Gelnhausen Endlich Judenfrei” (Gelnhausen Is Finally Free of Jews). In between the tragic times, our ancestors managed to live inspiring Jewish lives, albeit confined to the Judengasse at night.

After learning about our illustrious ancestors, my parents decided to pay a visit to the Gelnhausen cemetery, and to the many other ancestral graves in Germany, including those in Wurzburg and Laudenbach.

The Jewish cemetery in Gelnhausen is presently in fairly good condition. The gravestones that survived the Nazi era have been photographed and are available online with their Hebrew text and German translation. The former synagogue has been refurbished and is used as a cultural center for lectures and exhibitions. The women’s gallery features a permanent exhibition depicting the last painful years of Gelnhausen’s Jewish community. The entrance hallway features an exhibit of Jewish religious articles. Stolpersteine memorials appear outside the synagogue as well as in front of homes previously occupied by Jews.

My father was put in touch with Ms. Christine Raedler, a historical archivist in Gelnhausen, who has made it her personal mission to preserve Gelnhausen’s Jewish history and to perpetuate the memory of its Holocaust victims. Along with other conscientious individuals, Ms. Raedler is one of the organizers of the Stolpersteine Project (see below).

When my parents arrived, Ms. Raedler obtained the key to the beis hachayim. Avraham Lismann’s stone was easy to find, and the inscription text was ready for comparison. Olga’s was covered in ivy, but as they pulled off the growth and read the first line, it was obvious it was her matzeivah. Alas, where Rav Lismann’s headstone was supposed to be, there was nothing.

My father was struck by the providential series of events. He had learned of Rav Lismann and his greatness, how we were descended from him, as well as the location of his grave, and he alone was in possession of the original text of the matzeivah, which he had found among my grandfather’s archives. My father felt it was incumbent upon him to ensure that the burial place and matzeivah of Rav Lismann was restored.

Two years later, my parents traveled again to Gelnhausen, this time to arrange for a new matzeivah for Rav Lismann, but it was not yet to be. They obtained the necessary permission from the authorities, and upon their return home, were determined to have Rav Lismann’s grave restored on his 205th yahrzeit.

Baruch Hashem, on 15 Iyar 5777, in the presence of several descendants, the unveiling of a new matzeivah finally took place. My uncle, Rabbi Gershon Fordsham, his wife, and their sons Moshe Yosef and Rephoel Dovid came from Gateshead, England. Rabbi Joseph Grunfeld, founder of SEED UK, and his brother, Mr. Danny Grunfeld, came from London, England, as did Mrs. Marion Davies and her husband, Jonathan. Mr. Jonathan Strauss, descendant of Lismann Straus, came from Lausanne, Switzerland. My parents and I came from Toronto, Canada.

Rabbi Menachem Mendel Gurewitz, the rav of Offenbach, 90 minutes away by car, came with members of his community to ensure we had a minyan.

In addition, Ms. Christine Raedler, and several Gelnhausen town officials were also present, including Prof. Dr. David Lupton, representing the mayor.

In a letter to his family, Rabbi Joseph Grunfeld, a Kohein, described the proceedings:

“The ceremony itself took about 35 minutes. A white cloth was draped over the matzeivah… Reb Simha said a few words, then came the unveiling and the reading of the inscription… Reb Gershon said Keil Malei Rachamim and Kaddish. Although Danny and I could not hear, we could see, and it really was a moving ceremony.

“After the ceremony, we were all invited to the old shul for a reception. Outside in the pavement, one could see what are known as ‘Stolpersteine’ — literally, ‘stumbling stones.’ Christine has made it her mission, with the consent of the local council, to place small memorial stones, cemented onto the sidewalks all over town, with the names of the Jews who were deported, and either perished, or survived but had to start life all over again. I understand that there are similar Stolpersteine throughout Europe. Christine told us that there are still more stones with names to be placed onto Gelnhausen’s sidewalks. She will not rest until every single Jew who was deported is remembered.

“At the reception Christine spoke very movingly how this was one of the happiest days of her life. I gather that she had helped Reb Simha organize the whole day, being in correspondence and on the telephone with him for months on end. Through this project, she didn’t feel as isolated as before. Reb Simha also said a few words, describing how the project had gotten underway, and the help he’d received from Mrs. Davies. I also spoke spontaneously, expressing how moved I had been by Reb Simha’s noble task and that even though I was a Kohein, I was determined to come.

“At two, the earliest time for Minchah, we davened with a minyan at the shul, which had not seen any Jews pray since 1938. We ended off with a rousing, beautiful, harmonious ‘Tzaddik Katamar’ and ‘Adon Olam.’ It was really moving and uplifting to see this ancient shul once again ringing with tefillos and singing.”

So ends a 16-year journey of discovery and a 205-year-old saga. The family now knows more of its history, and Rav Lismann again has his resting place marked, with a new gravestone next to his wife and lifelong support.

Mr. Georg Schnabel, who certainly appears to be one of the chassidei umos ha’olam, lives not far from the Laudenbach Jewish Cemetery. For the past 30 years, he has served as its volunteer caretaker, assuming responsibility for its upkeep, meeting descendants of those buried there, and educating Germany’s younger generation about the Holocaust.

Five years ago, my parents were in touch with Mr. Schnabel. By the time they arrived in 2013, he had already located and marked all the legible gravestones of our ancestors. During the last trip, my parents and I spent the day before the hakamas matzeivah in Gelnhausen with Mr. Schnabel, erecting other stones in Laudenbach and Wurzburg.

Laudenbach is the burial place of Rav Lismann’s granddaughter and her husband, as well as his great-grandson, Lismann Emanuel Oppenheimer (my father’s great-great-grandfather). Also buried there are his wife and many other relatives, including my father’s great aunt, Leah (Louise) Forchheimer, who died at 12. My father was deeply touched when he first learned of her early death, when he himself was 12 years old. He never imagined that anyone, and certainly not he, would one day merit to be at her resting place. Contemplating that he, from Canada, was visiting the grave of a relative all but forgotten for a century, was one of the powerful instances of Hashgachah pratis.

My parents were unable to locate the kevarim of my father’s great-great-grandparents, during their first trip in 2013, and continued to search for them during their trip two years later. Mr. Schnabel has photo albums containing photos he has taken during the three decades of his taking care of the beis hachayim. He showed them a photo that turned out to be the gravestone of my father’s great-great-grandmother, Leah (Louise) Oppenheimer. The next day they inspected the monument carefully. Most of the text had fallen off in pieces, so they compared what was left to the photograph taken 20 years ago. Three letters — lamed, alef, and hei — were still legible. Using the photograph Mr. Schnabel provided, fallen pieces of text, and input from far-flung cousins, we were, eventually able to piece together the original text.

During the last visit, and with the help of Mr. Schnabel, my parents placed an additional stone at her matzeivah, with her full name and mention of her husband Lismann Emanuel Oppenheimer, because we no longer are able to find his burial place.

Lismann Furth was a first cousin of our great-great-grandfather Lismann Emanuel Oppenheimer. He plays an important role in this story. He was a banker who in his retirement wrote out diagrams of the family tree, for his cousin and perhaps others too. Keep in mind that there were no copying machines at the time, so every copy had to be written individually. It took us some years to discover that it was this same Lismann Furth who copied the text of the three matzeivos that began the journey of discovery. To do that, he probably used an early model of the fountain pen. It would have been awkward to write down the text with an inkwell in one hand, and a piece of paper in the other, or it would have required another person’s assistance. Without a doubt, it was his keen interest that provided us with the information we have today.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 717)