She thought she would never get through the battery of examiners and clerks. Three times she had to answer questions orally, and six times she had to raise her hand in oath. Then she could sit down. Her knees were shaking so that she was afraid she wouldn't be able to stand up any more.
She fumbled into her bag and pulled out some papers. She looked at them with blurred eyes. They were concrete evidence of her new citizenship. Was she really and truly an American citizen? Yes she was, at last! This girl was none other than Charlotte Stern...
...Charlotte arrived in New York, a refugee from Hitler's madness, a bewildered girl who had no working knowledge of English...
Excerpted from: Welcome, American Citizen, by Arthur Simon published in the Volta Review, July 1945
Over the 41 years that Charlotte "Lotte" Stern Friedman has been a dedicated and very active TBS member, we have many times honored her life during the commemoration of the annual Holocaust Remembrance. Although this tragic event has framed her life in countless ways, her amazing strength, tenacity and abilities are an innate part of who she is and is the true foundation of her ninety years of accomplishments.
She was born to Max and Anna Stern in Aachen, Germany near the borders of Belgium and Holland in 1920. World War I had ended only one year before Max and Anna were married and the ravaged economy reflected four years of war. Nutrition was poor and Anna had a difficult pregnancy with Lotte. She was a breech baby, born underweight and deaf, but her deafness was not discovered until the age of two when she became very ill with Typhoid Fever.
In Lotte's autobiography written in 2002 she said, "I was very slow in learning and was not able to say a word. Later I realized that I had not been able to hear a sound."
While recovering from Typhoid, Lotte happened to walk too close to the hot porcelain stove. Her mother yelled a warning across the room and was then struck with the shocking realization that Lotte had not heard her at all. Deafness was an entirely new world to Max and Anna, but the doctors were very encouraging and told them that she would be able to grow up normally and could learn to talk. They were advised to visit a school for the deaf to get an idea of what she might be able to accomplish. After their visit they were relieved to learn that she could live a normal life in the hearing world; yet she was too young to enter school.
Lotte's parents, realizing that time was critical to educate their child properly, because of her deafness, they did not want her to wait until the required age of six to start school. They hired a teacher who began tutoring her. Lotte remembered her teacher, Fraulein Wirtz, as an extremely strict taskmaster, while Fraulein Wirtz, having no understanding of deafness, labeled Lotte "lazy" incorporating a curriculum of physical punishment to motivate her.
With her mother's help, Lotte slowly began to speak. She simultaneously shocked and thrilled her father one day by telling her him, "Mach tuer zu." (Close the door.) Lotte's parents thought it would be a good idea for her to attend Kindergarten to improve her socialization with other children. Because of her deafness and lack of the ability to communicate, this intervention failed utterly. Her frustration led to misbehaving which led to being completely misunderstood by the other children.
Lotte was a deeply curious child and tested the patience of her parents on several occasions, often finding herself in trouble. Being an only child, Lotte was lonely when her mother was too busy to entertain her and she longed to know what went on outside the walls of her house. At the age of four, she donned her new pair of lederhosen (leather shorts) and hat with a feather, which gave her a sense of adventure, and headed for the train. She managed to escape through the heavy front doors of their home, running around the corner so she wouldn't be seen and made her way a mile and a half to the small train station called Rote Erde (Red Earth). She thought about boarding the train and walked up to the platform but the wind was blowing so strongly that she went into the station instead. Aachen was occupied by the Belgian army in these post World War I years and inside the train station were soldiers on duty.
"With great surprise I could read one soldier's lips and he asked me what I was doing. I was unable to say anything. Behind me an officer entered and looked at me. I was very confused and started to cry. The officer recognized me as he lived close by. He started to take me but I refused to go with him. He bought me some ice cream or candy, I don't remember which, and I had to follow him back to my house. Boy! I saw the crowd in front of the apartment, my mother in the midst, crying and screaming until someone saw me and pointed to me. She saw me and fainted! My father came on his bicycle from work and of course was very angry with me. I was pretty satisfied with myself for causing this commotion. I had not much common sense."
Lotte's happiness at being free only increased her appetite for more adventure. Several weeks later, again dressed in her lederhosen and hat she attempted another escape. This time the laundry woman saw the feathered hat bobbing across the cellar window, ran up the stairs and caught her as she was trying to open the front doors. This time her lederhosen and hat were taken from her and a spanking was administered to cool her wanderlust.
Lotte was characterized as a mischievous child, but in actuality was only trying to analyze and comprehend the world as she maneuvered through it. Without the daily auditory input one usually receives as they grow up, a deaf child automatically uses their innate visual and tactile abilities to fill the deficit.
As most young children, she was required to take a nap everyday, but she would have much preferred using the time to explore the world. Because of the continuing wartime shortages, electricity was rationed so her room was lit by candlelight. When her mother put her to bed for her nap, she neglected to remove the candle and matches and Lotte's inquisitive mind and little hands got very busy trying to light the candle. She burned her finger, dropped the match and started a fire. Knowing something was wrong, although not completely understanding what, she went to get help. Her mother, angry that she had gotten up from her nap, took her back to her room and discovered it ablaze, immediately splashing a pitcher-full of water on the burning wall and bed. Another fatherly spanking was administered.
When Lotte turned six she entered the School for the Deaf Taubstummen-Anstalt, (translated as Deaf-Mute Institute), later changed to Gehoerlosen Schule, (School for the Hard of hearing.)
Anna Stern had suffered several miscarriages after Lotte's birth, but now eight years later, there was great happiness in the house on the arrival of Lotte's new sister, Liesel. Lotte did not completely share in this joy at first, since for the prior nine months, she was planning on having a brother and this baby girl did not figure into her plan, creating an angry and rebellious Lotte. The following year an influenza epidemic swept the country, claiming the life of Anna Stern, not having fully recovered from the pregnancy and birth.
Leisel and Lotte
When Lotte had the good fortune of meeting Minna Buxbaum, the aunt of the family who lived upstairs, her life took a wonderful turn, never to be the same again. This lovely woman took a genuine interest in Lotte, helping her with drawing, sewing as well as her speech and they became very fond of each other. On one of Minna's visits Lotte mentioned to her father over dinner how sweet and interesting Fraulein Minna was, which prompted Max Stein to make a date with her. A romance blossomed between them and they married a year after Anna's death in 1929.
Minna, who Lotte lovingly called, Mutti (little mother) was a determined woman who adored Liesel and Lotte as her own. She steered Lotte toward the proper education she would need to survive in the hearing world; helping her perfect her lip-reading skills, involving her in sports and teaching her to be independent and unafraid of life's challenges.
Liesel recalls how Lotte finally warmed up to her: "Returning from their honeymoon after the wedding Minna found me unattended in my crib and Lotte dirty and unkempt. The two servants had taken their own vacation. Mutti fired them, ran a bath, sat Lotte down and placed me on her lap. I smiled at her and she fell in love." The two sisters have had an unbreakable bond ever since, "We promised each other, long ago, that we would be together in need. We have kept that promise for occasions happy and sad. We'd cry together and she'd [Lotte] say, 'That is life!'"
In 1933, when Hitler came to power, a system of discrimination and boycotts were insidiously instituted. At thirteen, when Lotte was to graduate from school, an edict was announced that Jewish children could not attain higher public education. Again, Lotte's parents recruited private tutors to continue her education and sent her to private art schools to further her aptitude in the arts. She fell in love with sculpture but because of the space it required for modeling, Lotte's father encouraged the fine arts instead.

With all Minna's encouragement and preparation, Lotte was equipped to leave home at 17 and moved to Berlin to study at The Private Art School, which had a few openings for Jews. The only choice of classes she had was in fashion, commercial art and calligraphy, none of which pleased her. It was difficult to take her studies seriously since she couldn't follow the instructors and there were no tutors available. But thanks to the independence that Minna instilled in her, Lotte spent her time exploring Berlin and falling in love with the city.
Happy with her freedom and independence, she thought she would stay in Berlin forever, but only after a year and a half, in November of 1938, Lotte witnessed an atrocity that would profoundly scar her life.
As she walked to school, on the morning of November 10th, the sights and smells of terror began slowly seeping into her consciousness as she saw the remnants of peoples lives littering the streets and sidewalks; a chilling site of broken homes, stores, synagogues, and schools.
"I noticed broken glass on the sidewalks, Jewish stores broken into; their items on the street mixed with the glass. Then I noticed the Temple on the same street burned out and prayer books thrown out like trash. I was stunned but kept on going, passing Kurfuerstendam Street were the exclusive department stores as well as other businesses were also damaged. Crowds stood in front of them, some were still burning and one of the owners stood there stunned, being spat at, pushed, kicked and his glasses torn from his face and stepped on. There was more but I went to school. The secretary saw me and told me to, "Go home!!" I had no idea what had happened because I could not her the news flash on the radio due to my deafness..."
The secretary explained to her the destruction of the night before that became known as Krystallnacht; The night of Broken Glass. She knew she must leave Berlin immediately. She quickly packed her belongings and asked the proprietor of the boarding house to contact her father and tell him she was on her way home. Fortuitously, Lotte was born in a Catholic hospital and her birth certificate registered her as Catholic. She went to the police station to get an ID allowing her to travel. Her heart was pounding all the while saluting soldiers and wondering if she looked Jewish. Jews were only allowed 3rd class tickets, but no one suspected and she bought a 2nd class ticket for the train. During her eight-hour trip home, she sat in stark fear that someone would start asking her questions so she mustered up her calmest demeanor so as not to attract any attention.
At one of the train stops, the door opened and a man in a crisp new Nazi uniform entered the compartment. He saluted Lotte with raised arm and she returned the required salute. He took her hand in his white glove, shook it, and began to speak disparagingly about the Jews, having no idea that she was Jewish since she was traveling in 2nd class. She nodded, pretended to listen and held her breath in terror. At the next stop, he wished her a good trip, saluted and exited the train.
When Lotte arrived in Aachen, she spotted a limousine driver who had driven her parents on special occasions. He approached her, took her baggage and silently loaded it into the vehicle. Inside the car, to her surprise was Mutti, who filled her in on the recent events.
Liesel, with a forged passport, had already left for Holland to stay with her father's sister, Frieda. Max had been arrested, turned in by the family maid, but by sheer luck had been released after his mandatory physical examination. He recognized the examining doctor as one he knew from the military from World War I where Max had been a lieutenant. The doctor stamped Max's papers and told the staff that he was to be released because his old war wounds did not make him a good candidate to work for the Nazis.
Max had made many connections through his textile business over the years and using those connections he was able to get passports for the immediate family. Two weeks later they boarded a train to Rotterdam. Through good luck or God's grace, the soldier checking the passports allowed them to board not noticing the second page identifying them as Jewish.
Sadly the rest of the family: grandparents, aunts and uncles perished in Auschwitz. Lotte's deaf classmates, who were not murdered, were sterilized so they could not reproduce.
The economy in Holland at this time was devastated; refugees were pouring over the border causing further economic hardship on the country. The Dutch government was interning all aliens, doing the best they could under the difficult circumstances, but the accommodations were not much better than a concentration camp.
When they arrived, their passports were taken and the family was held i n Rotterdam in a detention facility with barbed wire and guard dogs to ensure no one leaving. The men and women were examined and sent to sleep in separate buildings with straw beds, appalling food, and only cold showers, even though it was winter. After a few weeks they were transferred to an Amsterdam hotel, but still under guard. Eventually Max and Minna were released to an apartment near his sister, Frieda, but Lotte had to stay in the facility. She enjoyed more freedom but with a strict curfew and monthly she had to report to the Dutch police to get her passport stamped so they could keep track of her.
During this time Lotte worked with the nurses taking care of the medical needs of the detainees; some of them, from concentration camps were in very poor health. As a result of this experience, Lotte decided she wanted to be a doctor.
At age 19, she was finally released but the law forbid her to live with her parents, so she had to live alone. Nine months later, Lotte's aunt managed to get them into an apartment and Lotte worked as a maid in a home, where each day the lady of the house would put on white gloves, running her gloved hand over the furniture to make sure it was dusted properly.
Lotte knew Anne Frank, famous for The Diary of Anne Frank, as a child in Aachen. Anne's grandmother lived in Aachen down the street from them and later the entire Frank family moved there from Frankfort. Often the Sterns and the Franks would socialize and their children went to school together. Both families escaped to Holland at the same time, but Anne's father stubbornly refused to leave Holland, while Max knew danger was brewing and they must leave. In 1940, Max secured the needed passports and visas for the family and left Holland boarding the S. S Volendam for an eleven-day journey to New York.
The seas were rough and stormy for most of the trip, many, were very seasick. They wore inflated vests for the first couple days until they safely maneuvered through the minefields in the English Channel, all the while watching warplanes flying overhead between England and Germany.
Lotte said, "I noticed the ship stood still one morning. I looked out of the cabin window and got numb watching the Statue of Liberty [go by.] I learned that it was George Washington's Birthday and found out he was the first President of the United States. My heart was beating so hard and it was difficult to believe that we got to the USA safely!"
All of the passengers were released except Lotte. The U.S. had a policy about admitting those with disability or mental illness but she had a letter of sponsorship from a family member in San Francisco. The doctors and staff did the required interview with her and were a bit confused as to why she was there. How could she be deaf when she spoke so well? So they faced her away and tested her, proving that she was indeed deaf. After many questions they gave her back her passport and allowed her to join her much relieved family. Lotte recalls her fear at the possibility of being denied admission and admits that it ran through her head to jump overboard and end her life if she was declined.
While adjusting to her new home in New York, Lotte spent several months working temporary jobs. She had learned how to make leather gloves in Amsterdam and found work doing that. She made sketches for a wallpaper factory and worked in several places polishing display models. But Lotte's father was not satisfied and wanted her to learn to speak English.
In 1940, through a scholarship from the Jewish Federation, Lotte was able to attend the Central Institute for the Deaf in St. Louis, Missouri. Traveling on the bus from New York to St. Louis, Lotte was amazed at what a big place America was.
In exchange for room and board at CID, she cared for a deaf spastic child. After two years, during which she learned English, she was reunited with her family who had moved to Los Angeles. Lotte put her drafting skills to work finding employment with the army at the National School.
Irv and Lotte Friedman
In 1945, Arthur Simon wrote an article about Lotte's experience that was included in the AG Bell Association for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing publication, The Volta Review, along with her picture. It was seen and cut out by Irvin Friedman, who was the President and co-founder of the Hebrew Association of the Deaf in Chicago. When Irvin attended a convention of the Jewish Deaf in Los Angeles, he showed the picture around and was able to obtain Lotte's address. From that time it took only three months for Irvin to contact her, meet, court and woo her. On November 7th, 1948 they were married in a small Jewish chapel on Beverly Boulevard in Los Angeles. Lotte and Irv spent the next 22 years in Chicago raising their two sons, Joey and Myron.
Following the dream of her youth of working in the medical field, Lotte went back to school at the age of 57 graduating in 1977 as a Licensed Vocational Nurse (LVN) from Los Angeles Trade Technical College. She did all of her hands-on training at Good Samaritan Hospital and passed a grueling written test. She and her four deaf classmates: Koni Battad, Adrienne Riley, Genivive Baldwin and Lenna Schwaringen had proven their nursing ability by the state standards but were denied licensure from the state of California simply because they were deaf. They filed a complaint to appeal the decision, but the discrimination laws in those days were not as they are today and the judgment held. Lotte would not be deterred and was hired at St. John of God to take care of a woman with Alzheimer's disease.
Lotte and Irv devoted their Los Angeles years, beginning in 1970, to Temple Beth Solomon of the Deaf. Joining during TBS' 10th anniversary, Lotte immediately offered her calligraphy and artistic skills, while Irv founded the Men's Club. They both received numerous awards for all their years of dedication on the Board of Directors and their efforts to enhance TBS. Sadly, Irv passed away in 1996, but Lotte remained an active member of the TBS Board until 2010.
In the spring of 1992, Lotte apprehensively returned to Aachen, Germany for the first time since her escape in 1938. Beginning in 1955, Aachen's Society of Christian-Jewish Cooperation had been trying to create a Christian-Jewish dialog. Finally, in 1989 they began gathering the names and addresses of pre-war residents of Aachen to invite to a homecoming. 204 survivors accepted the invitation to make the trip back to a past they had tried to forget.
"When I was first asked to join the group, I must confess that I was, as were the immediate members of my family, rather reluctant to accept the invitation. In my own mind I was not sure that I really wanted to go back and relive the sights and scenes of my last memories of Aachen and Germany itself. My exit from Germany in 1938 had been a life-saving device for me and my family, an occurrence for which up to now I could not forgive the German people," Lotte said.
Lotte Stern Friedman is an amazing woman of valor, a role model for the generations. She has faced huge obstacles and discrimination both as a Jew and as a deaf woman, more than most of us can ever conceive. But she has defied these barriers with dignity and a perseverance that shows us her true character and capacity for love. We are honored to know her and tell this small part of her life story.More Profiles...