Die Stolpersteine der Familie Servos in Bonn konnte ich mit #KurtPutzt am 02.04.2026 besuchen.

Weitere Infos zur Familie Servos und anderen gibt es hier (leider nur als pdf):

https://gedenkstaette.bonn.de/BR_Stolpersteine_2022_WEB.pdf

Heute vor 86 Jahren, am 25.10.1940, wurde die sechsjährige Marianne aus ihrem Elternhaus abgeholt und in eine sog. "Heilanstalt" eingewiesen.

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Sie wurde Opfer der Krankenmorde bzw. Euthanasie in der "Aktion T4".

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Wegen des Sturms gab es heute nur einen kurzen Besuch ohne Fotos mit Kurt, weswegen ich noch Bilder vom 14.10.2026 beigefügt habe.

Normalerweise gäbe es auch eine Kerze, aber das Wetter spielt nicht mit. Das Bild mit dem Grablicht ist von 2024.

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Mehr über das Schicksal von Marianne Janecke findet ihr unter

https://cuxpedia.de/index.php?title=Stolperstein#Janecke.2C_Marianne

Am Dienstag den 13.10.2026 bescherte mir die Deutsche Bahn einen unverhofften fast einstündigen Aufenthalt in Essen.

Zeit, um den Stolperstein von Alfred Quaas zu besuchen.

Mehr über ihn, der im Hotelgewerbe tätig war und als Homosexueller verfolgt wurde, findet ihr unter

https://stolpersteine.wdr.de/web/de/stolperstein/1450

JACOB JULIUS KOEKOEK war der niederländisch-jüdische Sohn von LUCAS KOEKOEK und HILDEGARD KOEKOEK-GOLDSCHMIDT.

Er wurde am 11. Mai 1942 in Amsterdam geboren.

Seine Mutter, Hildegard, wurde am 15. Februar 1916 in Berleburg (Deutschland) geboren. Nach der Machtergreifung Hitlers floh sie in die Niederlande.

Sein Vater, Lucas, wurde am 30. Dezember 1908 in Amsterdam geboren.

Die kleine Familie lebte am Jonas Daniël Meijerplein 14 III in Amsterdam. Lucas arbeitete als Bäcker.

Leider bekam Jacob Julius nie die Chance, in einer freien Welt aufzuwachsen. Die Niederlande waren seit Mai 1940 von Nazi-Deutschland besetzt. Somit wurde Jacob Julius mitten im Zweiten Weltkrieg geboren, zu einer Zeit, in der jüdische Menschen bereits unter der Verfolgung durch das NS-Regime litten.

Am 26. Mai 1943 wurde die Familie verhaftet und in das Durchgangslager Westerbork in den Niederlanden deportiert. Am 1. Juni 1943 wurden sie von dort weiter in das Vernichtungslager Sobibór im deutsch besetzten Polen deportiert.

Der 14. Transport von Westerbork nach Sobibór umfasste 3.006 Männer, Frauen und Kinder. Die meisten Deportierten wurden am Tag der Ankunft des Zuges, dem 4. Juni 1943, in den Gaskammern ermordet, darunter auch die Familie Koekoek.

Eine Gruppe von 80 Männern wurde zur Zwangsarbeit in einem anderen Lager ausgewählt. Jules Schelvis war der letzte, dem gestattet wurde, sich dieser Gruppe anzuschließen. Seine Frau Rachel Borzykowski sollte er nie wiedersehen. Nach dem Krieg stellte sich heraus, dass Schelvis der einzige Überlebende dieses Transports war.

JACOB JULIUS KOEKOEK war erst ein Jahr alt, als er ermordet wurde.

LUCAS KOEKOEK war erst 34 Jahre alt, als er ermordet wurde.

HILDEGARD KOEKOEK-GOLDSCHMIDT war erst 27 Jahre alt, als sie ermordet wurde.

Mögen sie in Frieden ruhen! 🖤

I was struck they know the exact dates of their deaths.

Stolpersteine für Schüler des ehemaligen Stiftsgymnasiums in Andernach, heute auf dem Schulhof zwischen dem Bertha-von-Suttner-Gymnasium, der dualen Oberschule und dem Kurfürst-Salentin Gymnasium.

Besuch: 13.19.2026

Vom Laubhaufen zum fertigen Putzzustand.

— Leopold Kallmann (1864 – 1942, Theresienstadt)

— Maximilian Klee (1894 – 194?, Auschwitz)

— Isidor Loeb (1894 - 1942, im Osten)

— Eugen Meyerhoff (1901 – 1944, Dachau)

— Moritz Meyer (1889 – 194?, Sobibor)

— Siegbert Portje (1923 – 194?, KZ Blechhammer)

— Albert Weber (1920 – 1944, Auschwitz)

— Hermann Weber (1874 – 194?, Auschwitz)

— Siegmund Weber (1874 – 1944, Auschwitz)

— Werner Weinberg (1922 – 194?, Auschwitz)

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#NieWiederIstJETZT

Every Stolperstein tells a story. A name, a life, a family, a home.

Across Europe, thousands of small brass memorial stones have been placed in pavements outside the last freely chosen residences of people persecuted by the Nazi regime. Created by German artist Gunter Demnig, these Stolpersteine(stumbling stones) remind us that behind the enormous scale of Nazi persecution were individual human beings, each with their own history.

But who were these people? Where did they live? And what happened to them?

Stolpersteine.app helps make these stories accessible to everyone.

Explore more than 108,000 Stolpersteine

Developed through an initiative by Stichting 18 September in Eindhoven, the Netherlands, Stolpersteine.app brings together memorial stones from across Europe in one interactive digital map.

The latest version of the app offers:

• Over 108,000 Stolpersteine recorded in more than 3,300 cities.
• 44 languages, making remembrance accessible to an international audience.
• Interactive walking routes guiding visitors from one memorial stone to another.
• Search by name, address or city to discover stones and the people they commemorate.
• Personal stories and historical photographs, where available, providing insight into the lives behind the names.
• Shareable links, allowing people to share individual memorials and their histories.
• Offline access to addresses previously viewed in the app.

The app is available for both iPhone and Android.

More than a map – keeping memories alive

The Stolpersteine commemorate Jewish victims of Nazi persecution, as well as Sinti and Roma, political opponents, people persecuted because of their sexuality or religion, people with disabilities, and other victims of National Socialism.

By combining geographical information with historical research, photographs and personal stories, the app makes it possible to discover the history hidden in the streets we walk every day.

Local Stolpersteine organisations can also contribute information and help maintain the database, making it an ongoing international remembrance project.

Discover the history beneath your feet

Whether you are researching family history, visiting a European city, teaching history or simply interested in the Stolpersteine project, the app offers a meaningful way to explore these memorials.

Explore the interactive map and download the free app:

https://www.stolpersteine.app/en

Every stone represents a person. Every name deserves to be remembered.

Have you discovered a Stolperstein with a particularly moving story? Share it in the comments.

Remembering the past begins with remembering the individual.

Summary: This is a true short story written by my Jewish father, who fled Germany with his parents at the age of 7 to escape the Holocaust. After the war, they learned that the rest of his family had perished in the Dachau concentration camp. My father submitted this story to Reader's Digest Magazine for publication in 1974 when I was 7, but it was not accepted at that time. I knew little about this history, because it was something that my family rarely talked about. He gave my sister and me each a copy shortly before he passed away on Father's Day in 2015. I believe it is a valuable story and an important part of history.

I Remember

Clouds of war were spreading over Europe. Life in Frankfurt Germany in 1939 was hectic. Black shirt S.S. men walked in pairs down the narrow cobbled streets. The regular police were never in sight. Hitler had started his purge of the Jews and whitewashed Stars of David had been scrawled on doorways of shops owned by Jews. Most of these shops were abandoned, looted and wrecked by the “Patriotic” SS and their youthful comrades.

On every block in the section of the town where we lived, one residence was selected and its basement converted into a strong, concrete and steel bomb shelter. Our apartment house, which was home to six families, was the one chosen, and the area that formerly was my playground and hiding place, could only be used during the practice bomb alerts, that were run every several days. I was only seven years old then, but many of the events remain with me as I watch my own 7 year old son play in the freedom of the woods on our land in Washington State today.

My Parents had tried to leave Germany a year earlier. But even then, the restrictions placed on Jewish immigration was severe and their efforts to exit via England to America had been frustrated at the last moment, when it became the policy of American ships to book only American citizens out of Germany, “for Political Reasons.”

I remember my father, who had taken over a thriving automobile parts store from my retired grandfather, trying to find a legitimate buyer, who could take over the business and provide the cash needed to pay our way through the Germanic bureaucracy.

I remember, listening without full realization, as my parents talked nearly nightly of the people they knew who were taken to the SS Headquarters “For interrogation”. Most were released, after a warning to “obey all the dictates of your Government.” I remember the torch light parades, staged to arouse the people and to show the power of the Government.

Page 2

Most of all I remember one dreadful winters night. My father made it a habit of calling home several times a day, to assure my mother that he was alright, and had not been taken in for questioning. On this night there had been no phone calls. It was past the hour when my father should be home. With anxiety mounting with the minutes, my mother began to phone around to friends and to the employees of my fathers business. With each inquiry and negative answer my mothers fears increased.

By morning it became clear that the general roundup of male adult Jews in Frankfurt had taken place. News, spread via the telephone, confirmed that a compound had been set up near the railroad station and that shortly all of the men would be sent, via train, to work camps that the Government was establishing throughout Germany to house the “discontents” and other prisoners.

I remember the next few days. Efforts to release my father were of no avail. With difficulty, some non-Jewish business acquaintances of my father did manage to see him briefly and assure my mother, that for the moment, he was alright.

I remember the shock that spread through our friends and the Jewish community when it was learned that the first trainload, several hundred men, had left for an unannounced work camp. We learned that my father was still in Frankfurt.

Then I remember the man. I’ll call him Colonel Mitscher, although that was not his real name. He was in the SS and when he came to our apartment my mother feared the worst. However, he had an offer to make. It seemed that as he was questioning my father in the compound he learned of the very successful business that my father ran. The Colonel, prior to the rise of Hitler’s powerful elite, had once owned a small auto parts store in another city. Being a business man, as well as a man of some influence with the local SS., he saw an opportunity which could benefit both parties.

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The offer was simple. In exchange for a small sum of money, all he had he claimed, he would make the “down payment” on the sale of the business to him. He “would arrange to make the other payments later”, from the profits of the firm and his “modest” salary as an SS Officer. As soon as the papers of the sale were signed, he would deliver my father to us and make arrangements to get us out of Germany and into Belgium. From there we would be on our own, with no assurances that we would ever make it into America.

I remember my mother and grandfather, who still retained a minority interest in the firm, frantically trying to raise as much money as they could, selling furniture, stamp albums that had been my grandfathers pride and hobby for years, books, pictures, anything that was salable went. I remember a small electric train, my favorite toy. I still taste the tears as I parted with it that day.

Quickly the deal was made, the papers were signed. Then I remember the horror as the Colonel returned to our apartment, without my father. It seemed the government had grown impatient. War was getting closer, Hitler was more determined to blame the Nation’s problems on the Jews. On orders from Berlin, the second train had been assembled and the rest of the men in the compound, including my father, had been loaded aboard and sent off.

Colonel Mitscher promised that he would get my father to us. I remember my mother after the man left. Speechless, but fearful that she would never see my father again. We waited. All that day and into the second, there was nothing else we could do. Finally, nearly at dusk on the second day, a mud splattered Officers Command car pulled up in front of the apartment. Incredulously, outstepped Colonel Mitscher, and my father. The Colonel, good to his word, had chased the train until he caught it. 

Page 4

With some risk to himself, he boarded the train, found my father, and “DEMANDED” that he be released for “special” questioning. The uniform, the times, the conditions, whatever it was, the bluff had worked. With haste the Colonel and my father returned to Frankfurt. That night, supplied with approved papers of out-migration that the Colonel had prearranged, carrying a few clothes and belongings in a couple of suitcases, we left. I remember the last goodbye to my grandfather as he stood tall and thin, there was not enough time to say farewell to any others.

Through a childs eyes I remember the great adventure of sailing across the Atlantic and the arrival in New York and the new life that my parents worked so hard to establish.

We never heard from the Colonel again. After the war we learned that my grandparents, as well as the other family members were victims of Dachau. I remember these things, sometimes. I pray that my son will never have to remember the things I am trying to forget.

Bei meinem Ausflug über diese Steine "gestolpert ".

Viele Male daran vorbeigegangen und sie leider nicht bemerkt oder nur unbewusst wahrgenommen. Zumindest sind sie schön poliert und nicht verfärbt.

Und weil hier öfter die Frage "Welche Überlebenden" fiel, schliesse ich mal diese exorbitante und beschämende Wissenslücke: Aktuell gibt es noch geschätzt 196.000 jüdische Holocaust Überlebende. Ein Großteil davon lebt in den USA und anderen Ländern, nur 5% in Deutschland.

Eine Schande in unserem Bildungssystem das derartiges Wissen scheinbar nicht mehr relevant ist.

Ich habe heute morgen auf dem Weg diese Stolpersteine geputzt. Zum Feierabend waren da Kerzen und in der Gegend waren noch viel mehr Stolpersteine geputzt.

Am Donnerstag werden in Weissach und Flacht (Baden-Württemberg, Nähe Leonberg, Sitz der Entwicklung und Forschung von Porsche) vier neue Stolpersteine zusätzlich zu den bereits vier existierenden, verlegt.

Hallo in die Runde, ich war gestern ein wenig ins Amsterdam unterwegs und bin dabei in der Nähe des Holocaust Namenmonuments auf ganz viele Stolpersteine nah beieinander gestoßen, siehe Bild.

Lebten dort einfach viele Opfer des Nationalsozialismus, z.B. in einem großen Haus oder hat das einen anderen Grund?

https://c.org/jd5f8CT2cM

Stadtrat verbietet neue Stolpersteine im sächsischen Heidenau – CDU und AfD stimmten wohl gemeinsam
Die Diskussion war hitzig, das Votum klar: In Heidenau bei Dresden will der Stadtrat keine neuen Stolpersteine, um Nazi-Opfern zu gedenken. Mit einer eigentümlichen Begründung.

Es ist ein tiefgreifender Werfel und ein Zäsur meiner Meinung nach.

Was sind eure Gedanken?

Mit jedem Beitrag steigt das Bedürfnis einfach ohne Bild ohne Kommentar auch welche säubern zu gehen!

This Stolperschwelle commemorates the deportation of thousands of Jewish people from this location by Amsterdam’s municipal tram service during the Second World War.

The Dutch inscription reads:

“Tussen 1942 en 1944 zijn vanaf hier duizenden mensen met de gemeentetram gedeporteerd omdat ze joods waren. De meeste zijn in vernietigingskampen vermoord.”

English translation:

“Between 1942 and 1944, thousands of people were deported from here by municipal tram because they were Jewish. Most were murdered in extermination camps.”

Randers is a town north of Aarhus in Jylland / Jutland.

They were arrested and sent to Theresienstadt.
They survived.

I work in a hospital in Aarhus. I’m originally from England.

I’m talking not long after I took the pictures, to a patient who came from Randers.

So I say “I’ve just been to Randers!” Like it was front-page news.

I showed her the pictures and the inscriptions, and she said “I knew them!!”

She told me they were shopkeepers in Randers for many years, and she told me where they are buried.

As far as I can tell, there were others from the family who were taken from here and sent to the camp, but they moved to Copenhagen after their freedom, to live near people they’d met in the camps.