About the author

My journey into Holocaust history began unexpectedly at age thirteen, when I was cast as Anne in The Diary of Anne Frank. The role ignited an obsession, leading me to immerse myself in survivor testimonies and historical accounts, seeking to understand the profound psychological and generational effects of war and persecution.

At twenty-two, I did a stint at the United Nations in Geneva, Switzerland, where I worked for GATT. I was a horribly inept typist in the English typing pool, but it paid for all my travels abroad.

At twenty-four, upon returning home to Africa amid the Rhodesian Bush War, I got serious about my career. I was appointed Weekend News Director for Rhodesia Television, a fledgling sanctions-busting studio launched in 1961 with a crew of about twenty employees—the first television studio in Southern Africa, twenty-five years behind its counterpart, America.

I knew almost nothing about news broadcasting, but the studio was in a bind because its director had quit. With a résumé in journalism, performance, and communication, I was a good fit. Being a fast learner, I mastered the unspectacular knack of lacing a projector in under sixty seconds, spliced film, coordinated cameras mounted on wheeled dollies, developed a keen nose for page-one reportage, interviewed newsmakers, brewed gallons of coffee for the crew, and became an intrepid investigative journalist chasing stories with my trusty and mostly inebriated cameraman. Those were the days flying by the seat of our pants!

My marriage to the son of a Holocaust survivor led back to that old obsession. After a fifty-year veil of silence, my mother-in-law, Rifka, survivor of a salt mine and five labor camps, consented to be interviewed. I leaped at the chance to record her story as she spilled the harrowing details that are part of the warp and weft of this book.

Getting her to break her silence is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. It was a slow, brutal unraveling.

By the time I turned forty, I felt an undeniable responsibility to share what I had learned—to bear witness.

At its heart, the book tells the story of Rifka—a Schindler survivor—and me. The grand irony is that I was unchosen, the daughter-in-law she fiercely opposed. She boycotted our wedding. We were estranged for several years. Yet over time, after the birth of my son and my growing recognition that Rifka suffered from undiagnosed PTSD and Survivor Syndrome, our relationship transformed. Eventually, I became the one she entrusted to share her story. The book describes the slow flowering of our relationship over three decades.

This book is both a personal story and an exploration of trauma, resilience, and the long-term impact of extreme adversity. It was initially conceived as a straightforward chronicle of my mother-in-law’s extraordinary survival. Yet, writing is a process of discovery, and the story that emerged was far more complex.

It is structured as a dual narrative, intertwining our stories and shedding light on the profound psychological and neurological effects of trauma.

It explores:

• Intergenerational Trauma – how the children and grandchildren of survivors inherit emotional burdens and coping mechanisms.

• Survivor’s Syndrome – the deep guilt and psychological weight carried by those who lived through genocide.

• Reparative Adaptational Impact – the unexpected ways trauma survivors and their descendants find meaning, purpose, and healing.

• Sisterhood and Survival – women bonded as sisters in the camps and survived due to these extraordinary bonds of female friendship and support.

• Resilience and Adaptability – the strength and transformation that can emerge from trauma.

• Trauma and Its Impact on Survivors – the neurobiological and emotional scars left by extreme stress, manifesting in PTSD, altered brain structures, and lifelong emotional patterns.

• The Bystander Effect – how silence, complicity, and moral disengagement allowed atrocities to unfold.

• Forced Labor, Human Rights Violations, and Political Asylum – themes that remain tragically relevant today.

My husband, Zak, a gastroenterologist, and I live in Central Florida. We have three stupendous children, each a gem, and six grandchildren scattered across the United States. I build and remodel houses, write, play mahjong, and cook when we aren't visiting them. While I’m no foodie, I know my way around a kitchen and enjoy watching the Food Network. Street Food is my current favorite.

In the wake of October 7th, we have learned that anti-Semitism sleeps lightly. Today, we stand on the precipice of a resurgence on a scale not seen since WW2. Wide-ranging and meticulously researched, My Name Is Not Rifka couldn't be more timely. The parallels are horrifyingly prescient.