It’s a Small World, After All
In my first post from Good Name Advisors, I recounted the trip I had taken a few weeks prior to Mauthausen concentration camp, outside Linz, Austria in May, 2025. With my daughter, brother and nephew, we participated in the 80th anniversary of the end of World War II ceremonies. While we were there, there was a crew from 60 Minutes filming some b-roll but we didn’t give it much thought.
And then, two weeks ago, the piece from Mauthausen aired on CBS. It was one of the finest pieces of television I’ve ever seen. In the long-form piece (nearly 30 minutes), Lesley Stahl detailed the unbelievable survival of three babies, born during their mothers’ imprisonment, and their meeting each other for the first time 65 years later. We heard a bit about their stories on that day last May 2025, but it wasn’t until we watched the segment that we fully understood the remarkable story.
One of the interviewees showed his American soldier father’s album – a collection of memorabilia and pictures from the 11th Armored Division, many depicting the liberation of Mauthausen. His father, Private Lloyd “Pete” Petersohn, was handed one of the babies, and his quick actions helped save her life. And as I watched the segment, something clicked for me.
For over 30 years, I’ve looked for a picture of my dad at liberation. He remembered taking it with an American soldier (or officer) and recalled his name as Jerome Rosenthal, from Chicago. Rosenthal spoke to my dad in Yiddish, and they took a picture; my dad always described it as being in front of the Mauthausen entrance with bodies stacked like cordwood behind them. The closest I have come to finding the picture came from – of all places – the office next door to me when I worked at the Jewish Federation of Detroit. My colleague at the time, Carol Kaczander, overheard me when I called somewhere seeking the photo and said, “My father-in-law helped to liberate Mauthausen, and he left us pictures in his estate.” Once the shock wore off, my dad and I went to lunch with Carol and her husband. And in the box were pictures that just took my breath away, many showing the scene my dad had always described. But, no picture of him.
A few years later, my husband went on a fishing trip with some friends. At one point, World War II came up, and of course, it turns out that one of the fishermen, Brent, was a grandson of a Mauthausen liberator and left him a box of memorabilia. Once back home, Brent came over with his box, and my dad sat with us as we unpacked it. No pictures, but there was a moment where my dad exclaimed, seemingly out of nowhere, “Your grandfather lived at the end of that cul da sac up in Lapeer and loved a good gin and tonic!” Brent sat there stupified, as my dad was completely correct. Turns out, my dad had met the grandfather for a drink for many years to thank him for his military service!
And back to two weeks ago – while watching 60 Minutes, Brian Petersohn showed his dad’s album, and the quick look at the pictures got my attention. There were scenes from liberation, many of them looking just as my father had described. I reached out to Brian (realizing I had his information from the May 2025 trip) and while he doesn’t think he has a photo of my dad, we will be in Chicago soon and will take a look for ourselves.
This is all part of my legacy, inherited from my dad. One of kindness, connection, appreciation, and love. Knowing that history is complicated, but kindness is not. That you can preserve your legacy with good deeds, with charitable giving, and with living an authentic, connected life.
How will you preserve yours?
Fondly,
Kari
