Page 11 - My Memoirs - Max Kurz

1953-1958 My Life Changed Forever
Unbeknown to me and my family, Tuesday 10th February 1953 was a life changing event, the day my father died. Rudolph Kurz took his own life which came as a complete shock to me. Everybody seemed to know something about my father’s condition except me. The newspapers reported that the cause of his death was from mental illness and quotes were made by my mother as to his condition. I was twelve years of age; the event and shock of it all created a total disconnect and absence of understanding which has never been reconciled to this day.
In my adult years I have managed to piece together an unsubstantiated narrative of what may have been the causes. My father suffered the war years as a young refugee arriving in the UK alone, he had to abandon his studies, seek employment to help support a wife and child. At the conclusion of the war he recommenced his studies, returned to Czechoslovakia to complete his degree only to learn of the death of his parents at the hands of the Nazis. This firsthand account of the holocaust may well have included other members of his family of whom we are not aware. As previously stated 1948 was the year that he attempted to leave Czechoslovakia due to the communist takeover by Russia. His journey back to the UK was said to be fraught with danger and difficulty, he was interned in Germany for a short time. It has been said that it took him 12-18 months to return to the UK, and my mother often commented as to his poor physical condition and weight loss. The difficulties that he encountered were a combination of being a refugee from war torn Europe, being Jewish, emotional trauma of losing his parents and family, no financial security, returning to a country that was unsympathetic and unkind to refugees, not to mention anti-Semitism was rife in the northern part of England. My father took up residency in the Jewish Hospital in Manchester where he was highly regarded, thereafter worked as a locum in various surgeries all of which provided prestigious testimonials. At the time of his death he was about to take a position as a specialist pathologist.
In reflection I am now able to understand the moods experienced by my father and its effect on me as a child. I saw my father as a serious man, a disciplinarian; I was fearful of him and I experienced his wrath. As an adult and his son, he remains a person whom I admire, respect and I would dearly give anything to have experienced the unspoken love he must have had for me and I of him at the time. How things could have been different, “if only”; unfortunately, we were victims of the times and that was the way it was.
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