I asked him "Foon Vanet is a yid? - Which town are you from?"

He answered "Auschwitz." I gasped. I thought I heard wrong. Auschwitz was a major death camp, where millions of people died in the gas chambers. How could he live in such a horrible place, I wondered. I thought only the devil himself could live in Auschwitz.

So Landau enlightened me that Auschwitz was originally called Ospitzin in Yiddish. The town had 8,000 Jewish people, with schools, synagogues, kosher shops and mikvahs. It had rabbis, teachers, workers and a striving economy.

A teen-ager when Germany invaded Poland, Landau was taken to labor camps at Sakrau, Germany, then to Blechhammer and Wiesau. After years of hard labor he was shipped to the Bunzalu and Terezenstat concentration camp.

"Many of us were worked to death. Others died of starvation or from beatings. We worked on building the famous Autobahn - super highway - that runs through Germany. We also built a large ammunition factory for the German war effort. We felt TERRIBLE doing that!" Landau said.

"1942 to 1944 I was in a work camp called Wiesau. We were kept alive as long as we could work. We were about 26 to 50 persons to a barrack. Our sleeping quarters were miserable. In the winter a small stove heated the big room. Most of the time we were starving and ill-treated.

"We worked from early morning to late night and then we were locked up for the night. We were lucky if we weren't disturbed or beaten. We later became so disoriented that we didn't know what day it was. But in 1942, I still knew to count the days to Passover.

When Passover came I wanted to celebrate the Seder. I told my closest friends we would try to get some flour and I would risk my life to bake matzah."

"We got a cigarette a day and a small piece of bread. At night, we got a cup of liquid called soup. It was a meager existence. We decided to keep our cigarettes and barter them for flour from a Czechoslovakian worker.

'When there is a will there is a way.' Our fellow workers let it be known that they could get a cigarette for flour and, miraculously, an ounce of flour appeared. Soon we had enough to supply a matzah or two for our Seder.

"But how would we smuggle the flour into our barracks? Anyone caught smuggling would be shot. So we hid the flour in our clothing. At the bottom of our pants we made a small hem, where we would put a few sprinkles of flour. We tucked our pants into our worn out shoes, and returned to the barracks. We would be searched and allowed in. Miraculously the flour was not discovered. We would carefully empty and shake the flour out of the ends of our pants. Slowly but surely we had flour for Passover. Imagine, here we were in the terrible labor camp thinking of only one thing - to have matzah for Passover.

"It took a long time to save a pound of flour. I knew if we were caught it would be the end of us, but I was as determined as ever.

"The night before Passover we heated up the potbelly stove until the top was burning red hot. We quickly mixed the flour and water and kneaded the dough. In a few minutes we baked 2 or 3 matzahs!

"I missed my family and remembered my Yeshiva friends. Our great family Seders were a thing of the past, but living in the past kept me alive in the present. That Passover night we ate matzah never knowing if we would survive the war, but we did.

"In 1945, I was part of a death march where most died. The Germans moved us hoping we would all die. I became very sick and almost died. I was liberated by the Russians on May 8th, 1945. After regaining my health I was determined to keep on going. I met a girl who survived Auschwitz. We had similar goals and were determined to start a family. Thank G-d, I have two daughters and many grandchildren.

"When I came to America I became a teacher and organized a school for children of refugees. As the school grew so did my responsibilities, and I became the principal of the school. We built schools, synagogues and saw the rebirth of our people. Now retired, I spend my winters in Miami Beach."

Joseph S. Landau gave a sigh, and his remarkable story left me much to think about.