I am Mark Weiss – grandson of Emil Heilbrunn and child of his eldest daughter Ruth Heilbrunn Weiss.  Milton asked for reflections after having visited Sontra, with my wife Linda, at the beginning of September, 2025.  Where to start?  This is challenging as my mind jumps between sights and sounds and tastes and people and emotions associated with the visit.  It’s really a jumble that might sort out as time goes by.
    

Emil, known to all his grandkids as Peep, was a major figure in my childhood.  He was a wonderful man who purchased a large, barn-of-a-home in Brooklyn, NY right after World War II for his daughters, Ruth, Gretchen and Maxine and families.  Over the time we lived there probably 9 or 10 people lived under the roof on East 15th Street.  But I had the luck to be the one who lived with him the longest – up until his death in September of 1958.  As I aged and realized just how much he meant to me I toyed with the thought of visiting Sontra.  I even exchanged letters with town officials about the possibility but as I got serious about the idea, covid came along.  Then Milton and Brian resurrected the possibility, and I am deeply thankful they did. This was an absolutely wonderful experience.
 

Seeing the town, walking the streets of Sontra floated countless memories.  Standing in front of the home he was raised in, and likely born in, brought a flood of memories and questions.  I do think about all of this – usually while lying in bed at 3 or 4 in the morning.  This morning an analogy came to me that I think holds up.  Once upon a time I was an academic and my research centered on DNA of our relatives – monkeys and apes.  I prepared the DNA of many animals over time and the procedure always seemed somewhat miraculous.  The final step involved dropping a bit of alcohol into a test tube and after a couple of delicate taps on the tube, the solution becomes translucent or rippled and a white, thready, goopy material appears and sinks to the bottom of the tube – the DNA. It’s a jumble of bits and pieces of a life.  For me, Sontra was the drop of alcohol that precipitated many threads of memories of Peep and my childhood.  Thoughts about where I belong in the world, what I’ve done or not done, my parents, my kids.  Trying to untangle these threads is an ongoing process that will likely continue as I watch the clock and stare at the ceiling. But it was walking the streets of Sontra and seeing the Heilbrunn home, visiting the graves of a great-grandfather – all of this started me down the road. 
 

I got to thinking about memories.  I’m sure that some of them are memories that were imprinted on me when others told me about how things were, how I behaved, what I did.  Some I’ve probably adopted as my own memories, and they’ve become part of me.  But, whatever their origin, these are the memories I hold as an 80 year old.   
 

One thread starts at the door of the Heilbrunn home.  Why, in 1908 did Peep chose to pack up and head to the US?  As far as I know he was the only one in his family to do so at this point.  The home and the town appear to my eyes as pleasant and comfortable; why leave? His siblings didn’t leave until they were forced to flee.  Emil wasn’t threatened by war, he wasn’t threatened by Nazis.  What was it that made him pack up and head across the Atlantic to a place where he didn’t even know the language?  Visions of the gold-paved streets of America?  Strife within the family?  A relationship gone bad?  Wanderlust?  I’ll never know but it does leave me wondering in the dark.
    

This train of thought invariably leads to my thinking about other migrants.  America has prided itself on being a place of refuge for the “homeless, tempest tost”.  This was the country’s aspiration that I learned in school and at home.  I owe my existence to its acceptance of refugees and migrants from Sontra, Russia, and Hungary.  What is the fate of today’s migrants?  Not the same as my lucky, hopeful ancestors, I fear. 
 

Of course, placement of the Stolpersteine was of course the centerpiece of the time in Sontra.  I was very appreciative that Gunter Demnig himself placed the stones.  I was rather surprised that he did not speak at all to our family and the people of Sontra.  But then, I gather that he feels that the “stones” speak for themselves.  The ceremony was touching and the participation of current residents, particularly the children, was especially so.  It was wonderful to witness this gathering with my wife, son, sisters, cousins, niece and brother-in-law and relatives and family from around the world. 
 

I will never forget the kindness of Ludger Arnold, Lea Schellhase and Hans Isenberg and all the residents of Sontra that we had the good fortune to meet.   I will always treasure their kindness and commitment to enabling this both solemn and joyous event.  Their dedication to preserving the Jewish heritage of the area is truly praiseworthy and profoundly appreciated.   
 

And, thank you, thank you, thank you Milton and Brian and all my other relatives who contributed to making our travel to Sontra a once-in-a-lifetime event. 
 

And thank you and all my love to Peep and Mom for being the wonderful people you were.