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Staff writer

He comes before audiences with an unscripted message. Instead, he speaks what’s on his mind and from his heart.

The subject is tolerance, peace and hope.

Peter Fischl, 79, a Holocaust survivor found his way from Chino Hills, Calif., to the stage at Spring Lake Park High School’s Fine Arts Center Nov. 17.

His visit was thanks to a determined eighth-grader, Natasha Powell, who navigated streams of negativity and naysayers to bring him here to teach her classmates a lesson, she said.

As part of a school project last year, Natasha read Elie Weizel’s “Night.” She was so touched by it, she began researching the Holocaust.

When Natasha spoke about her findings with classmates, some laughed at Jewish babies being thrown in the air and shot by Nazis for target practice, Natasha said in her introductory remarks Nov. 17.

Poem sparked friendship

“I set out on a mission to teach them the horrors of the Holocaust,” said the 12-year-old Lighthouse student. (The Lighthouse is a District 16 program for the gifted and insatiable learners.)

She threw herself into deeper research. That’s when she came across a poem on the Internet written by Holocaust survivor Fischl.

The poem spoke of a frightened little Polish boy during World War II with his hands in the air, a gun aimed in his direction.

Natasha and Fischl struck up a correspondence. He was available to speak at her school. However, there was a matter of a $2,500 travel and lodging fee.

People told Natasha she was wasting her time, but it only fueled Natasha’s efforts to raise funds.

She contacted several local religious organizations and local businesses. Two stepped forward: Sam’s Club of Fridley and Spring Lake Park District 16’s Panther Foundation.

‘So they won’t forget’

Natasha reached her funding goal for Fischl’s visit.

“It feels good to do something important; to teach them so they won’t forget,” Natasha said about the Holocaust.

Her mother La Donna describes her bright daughter as determined, motivated and goal-oriented.

“She has a bigger drive when people tell her she can’t do something,” La Donna said.

About 150 people attended the evening event. Fischl spoke to students the next day.

Change in 10 minutes

Following are some of Fischl’s remarks about the Holocaust:

Fischl mused on how life can change in just 10 minutes.

He was a child of 13 when the German troops marched into Budapest, Hungary, during World War II and started rounding up Jews.

“Up until then we were free; at that moment, we were hunted animals,” he said.

Fischl recalled a particular dinner one evening with his family.

He asked his father: “Daddy, is it possible we’re going to be murdered now?”

“He looked at me and said, ‘yes.’” Fischl said.

The Hungarian Jews were forced to leave their homes and live in Jewish houses, with restrictions on when and where they could go.

Fischl was sent to a labor camp to work daily.

Oct. 15, 1944, Hungarian President Miklós Horthy  proclaimed Jews of Hungary were free to go back to their homes and were no longer required to wear the six-point yellow star on their clothes identifying them as Jews.

“We were in heaven, but it didn’t last long,” Fischl said.

The SS killed Horthy’s bodyguard and arrested and deported the president to Germany.

The Arrow Cross Party, a puppet government in Nazi-occupied Hungary, took over. Fischl said 16- and 17-year-old boys with machine guns were executing Jews and others in the streets.

Fischl’s family went into hiding. He attended a Catholic school. His sister and mother stayed with nuns. His father hid from the Nazis at a Budapest ambulance station.

Desire to see a movie saves his sister’s life

One day Fischl grew restless and decided to skip school to go to a movie. He walked 2 1/2 miles. But instead of finding the theater, he found a bombed out building that had been leveled.

By coincidence, he ran into an old family friend named Alex.

Alex worked for the Hungarian underground against the Nazi Party.

Alex inquired about the whereabouts of Fischl’s mother and sister.

Within two days, the SS had stormed their hiding area and took everyone down to the Danube River and shot them.

Alex had tried to warn the people, but no one believed him. Except for Fischl’s mother and sister, who left the area.

“My sister is alive today because I wanted to go to a movie,” Fischl said. His sister Markia is 81.

Plans to move

Fischl said people remark that he must have been smart to survive the Holocaust. But he has a different philosophy.

“You had to make plans to move around, but you needed a lot of luck as well,” he said.

Fischl spoke of hiding in a “shaky” building that had been bombed. He compared the sway to an earthquake, measuring 6.3 or 6.4 on the Richter scale.

Young Jewish escapees, ages 20 to 25, from the labor camps were hiding in the same building.

When the bombs exploded, the boys, even though they didn’t know the 13-year-old Peter, would throw their bodies over him to protect him in case the building collapsed.

“All of them were willing to die for an unknown kid,” Fischl said.

Later in 1944, his father, Tibor, was taken away and killed by Nazis. To this day, Fischl still dreams of his father’s return.

Fischl spoke of the bravery and compassion of the Danish people and Danish king who stood up to the Nazis.

“In Denmark, the SS had to knock on people’s doors to be let in,” Fischl said. “In other countries they would throw hand grenades.”

He summed up his talk with a few last thoughts. “We don’t have the right to look for scapegoats and to hate each other,” Fischl said. “We can change the world if we help each other.”

Fischl made his way to the United States at the age of 27.

He ended his lecture at SLP High School with the reading of a poem he wrote called “To the Little Polish Boy Standing With His Arms Up.”

The poem’s creation was sparked by a photo Fischl saw in Life Magazine of a terrified young boy in the Warsaw Ghetto in 1943 – a German soldier standing behind him with rifle poised.

The photo haunted Fischl for years. Years later, he wrote the poem.

“I am sorry that it was you and not me,” the poem ends.

Since 1994, Fischl has dedicated his life to spreading the word of tolerance.

He speaks in high schools, colleges, churches, synagogues and at various community venues throughout the country.

A documentary by Peter Musurlian of Globalist Films titled “Holocaust Soliloquy” on the life of Peter Fischl is slated to be released next year.

To learn more, visit www.peterfischl.com.

Elyse Kaner is at This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it