City of Life, City of Death: Memories of Riga

7 Sylvia

My sister, Sylvia, was born in 1916 in Moscow.The family had moved there the previous year when Riga was threatened by the Germans. Quiet, studious, and hard-working, Sylvia was a diligent student who prided herself in getting top grades in all her subjects. When I was very young she would sometimes play with me in our yard, but once Sylvia started high school she spent most of her time at home doing schoolwork. Then she seldom played with me, and I saw little of her except at mealtimes. Sylvia’s room was off my parents’ bedroom, with no connection directly from the hall. Originally, it had been the dressing room for the master bedroom, and it could be entered only by way of my parents’ bedroom. Her room was smaller and darker than mine. (I may have been given the larger room because I shared it with my nurse.) In the evening her desk lamp cast a small circle of light just on her work, leaving the rest of the room in almost total darkness. Sylvia always seemed to be writing. She usually rewrote her copious notes and composed what seemed to me overlong essays. I was amazed and baffled by her disciplined work habits and, in particular, by her powers of concentration. It never occurred to me to interrupt her or to ask her to play with me. Sylvia attended Luther School, a private German-language elementary and high school for girls. It was a school for children of the Baltic German “aristocracy” and had a reputation for not accepting Jews into the high school. Nonetheless, both Sylvia and two of her girlfriends were admitted. I don’t believe Sylvia was friendly with any of her non-Jewish classmates , but she did have a few close girlfriends. Her best friend was her classmate Irma Danziger, the niece of my mother’s sister-in-law Anna Danziger Griliches. Sylvia did not go out much, and I do not remember that she ever dated. % Sylvia
46 GROWING UP JEWISH IN PREWAR LATVIA Sylvia entered Riga University in the fall of 1933. A few months later she developed a middle-ear infection that turned into meningitis. As her condition worsened, my father sent for a specialist, a famous professor from Vienna. He arrived too late to be of help. Sylvia died just short of her eighteenth birthday . Seven years later penicillin first became available. Her death, a terrible blow for us all, was particularly devastating for my mother. My mother and Sylvia were extremely close, and Sylvia had been the joy of Mama’s life. Mama would recall what an adorable baby Sylvia had been and how she and Nyanya, her Russian nanny, had proudly paraded through Moscow wearing a little fur coat. People would stop to admire the beautiful chubby little girl. With Sylvia’s death my mother became profoundly depressed. She never entirely recovered from this loss. A recollection: Coming home on an early winter afternoon, I find Mama standing in our dining room surrounded by several women friends. Outside, dusk is beginning to settle, and the room is dark. As the women step aside to make room for me, I run up to Mama and embrace her. “Mami, Mami, I am here for you,” I say. Crying, she kisses me and turns back to her friends. Feeling left out and disappointed that my attempt at consoling Mama has failed, I retreat to my room. The somber mood in our house was aggravated by a collusion among the family to keep the death secret from my grandmother Emma, who was gravely ill at the time. Emma suffered from congestive heart failure, and the family feared she would not survive the bad news. Accordingly, on doctor’s orders, Emma was confined to bed in her upstairs room even as my sister’s funeral was proceeding in the big parlor downstairs. My grandmother was told Aunt Clara had taken Sylvia to a clinic in Paris for further treatment. Grandmother Sophie, who knew of Sylvia’s death, did not come to Riga for the funeral. I was excluded from the family circle at this solemn occasion and was sent to spend the day with my cousin Ali Kretzer. I can only guess whether this was done to avoid arousing my grandmother’s suspicions or because I was thought to be too young to understand and participate in the Thea and Sylvia, Moscow, 1917. [3.149.213.209] Project MUSE (2024-04...