Testemony by Felix Yochanan Yokel, PhD (formerly Felix Jokel)


The following life-history was written by Feliy Yokel, PhD. In the end you can also read a recently added epilogue by his eldest son Uri.
Don’t miss some memories on him, his photo-album and the speech he held at the opening ceremony of the memorial.

ABBREVIATED LIFE HISTORY
June 7, 1994
Summary

I left Austria in June 1938 and moved to Brno (Brünn), Czechoslovakia, where I continued my studies in the seventh grade of the Jewish Gymnasium. In April 1939 I left for Israel with a Youth Aliah group. I stayed in kibbutz Afikim for three years, and then joined kibbutz Kfar Blum as a member. I served in the Palmach and subsequently in the IDF from 1943 to 1950, and subsequently returned to Kfar Blum. I married my wife, Shoshanna, in Kfar Blum in 1946 and our two older children were born there. In 1956 we left for the US. I studied engineering, graduated in 1963 with a Ph.D degree and became a partner in a consulting engineering firm. Our youngest son was born in the US in 1961. In 1968 I accepted a professorship at the State University of New York (SUNY) at Binghamton, and subsequently worked for the National Bureau of Standards in Washington (now the National Institute of Standards and Technology), where I carried out research programs in geotechnical, structural and earthquake engineering. My wife studied German Literature and Linguistics and taught at the University of Maryland and subsequently in Montgomery County, Maryland high schools. We both retired in July 1993. Our oldest son, Uri, is an architect and lives with his wife and three children in the Washington, DC area. Our daughter Yael is a physician and lives with her husband and two children in Florida. Our youngest son, Benjamin, is also a physician and lives with his wife and two children in Minnesota.

Introduction

At the time of the Anschluss I attended the sixth grade of the Bundesrealgymnasium in Laa/Thaya. four years ago I visited Laa and stopped at the school, which to my amazement did not change at all since my time. I almost felt as if I were on a time warp. Since the school was closed, I attached my card to the door, in the hope that perhaps somebody would try to contact me - however nothing happened. We lived there, and one day we disappeared, and apparently nothing changed and nobody cares.
When World War II ended I lived in Israel, was a member of kibbutz Kfar Blum and served in the Palmach (then an underground army). After I received the news of the murder of my parents, I just wanted to forget about Austria as if I never lived there. I didn't even bother to try to reclaim our property because I felt that I had more important obligations. I finally visited Austria in 1989, more than 50 years after I left. Then, in late 1993 I received a letter from Magdalena Mullner, a non Jewish student at the Gymnasium in Laa. I was touched by her sincere attempt to document our history and decided to contribute to this effort. As I get older, I am increasingly bothered by the fact that most people, including our own children, do not know what happened to our families, and many do not want to know.
I shall now try to document my history beginning with the Anschluss. Since I kept no diary of any kind I have to rely on my memory, and there may be some gaps and inaccuracies (it was a long time ago).
Austria
At the time of the Anschluss I lived with my parents, Eng. Karl Joke! and Emma Jokel (nee Hauser) at the factory complex of Josef Hauser on Neudorferstrasse, near the Kellerberg in Laa a/d Thaya. My parents were part owners of the factory in Laa, several wine cellars on the Kellerberg, and another, similar factory in Miroslav (Misslitz), Moravia. My father founded and managed the factory in Laa, and my uncle, Dr. Max Hauser, managed the Miroslav factory. Prior to the death of my Grandfather, Josef Hauser, in 1935, we spent most weekends in Miroslav, and my mother managed Josef Hauser's household. For this reason, many of my and my parents' social connections were in Miroslav (which had a much larger Jewish community than Laa).
My mother was the daughter of Josef Hauser, who in the late 19th century founded a factory for alcoholic beverages (slivoviz, brandy), liqueurs, essences and aromatic oils in Miroslav (Misslitz) Moravia. She studied nursing, and among other things served as a trained nurse during World War I. My father came from a family of modest means (they had a bakery in Miroslav) and put himself through Engineering School (Technical University) in Vienna by tutoring other students in mathematics. He graduated in 1912 and worked as an engineer in Vienna. At the outbreak of World War I he volunteered (einjahrig Freiwilliger) and became an officer. He was sent to the Russian front, and was injured and captured in the Brussilov offensive. During the revolution he escaped and returned home, and was sent again to the Italian front where he again suffered injuries. After the war he married my mother and subsequently founded a branch of the Josef Hauser firm in Laa, where he remained until the fall of 1938. (After the partition of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy many of Josef Hauser's client firms were in Austria and had to be served by a separate factory in Austria). My parents were devoted to their extended families and the business which embodied their and the family's work and accomplishment. Our families lived in central Europe for many generations, perhaps longer than the families of many of the Austrians who treated us as foreigners.
Since there apparently were no Jewish youngsters of my age group in Laa (at that age, even a one -year age difference counts), my social contacts in Laa were with my non Jewish classmates. I would characterize the situation in my class as follows: I had some good friends (three boys, one girl) and socialized with a few other youngsters my age; the majority of my classmates were more or less strangers to me, but not necessarily hostile; a few youngsters my age and some older ones were openly antisemitic. I considered them my enemies, and occasionally our hostility erupted into open conflict (I had little tolerance for insults). As far as professors were concerned, I knew that a few of them were Nazis or Grossdeutsche (they made no secret of this fact in the classroom). However, I did not experience incidents of open or perceived discrimination against me.
Prior to the day of the Anschluss we followed the events via radio and newspapers. My father still believed that somehow Chancellor Schuschnigg would stand up against the pressure (with Mussolini's help). I had no such illusions, and as a socialist I hated Mussolini. I still remember Schuschnigg's speech after he surrendered (Gott schutze Osterreich, etc. - no indication of any concern for his Jewish compatriots who would have to pay the greatest price). In the morning we were greeted with an enormous Nazi flag, hoisted from the house opposite our window.
My first day in school after the Anschluss was rather uneventful. Some of the professors seemed enthusiastic about the Anschluss, and in one instance (Naturgeschichte) we were required to start a new page with an ornate title: "Nach dem Anschluss Osterreichs an das Dritte Reich". We were informed that Professor Zippe would replace the principal of the Gymnasium, a surprise for me, since I had excellent relations with Zippe I had been a star student in his afternoon class for descriptive geometry (Geomtrisches Zeichnen). Among the students there was excitement and some relief from their perceived burden of responsibility, because of the prevailing opinion that everything was changing and not much more work would be done for the remainder of the year. On the second day, my previously mentioned enemies seemed to think that they now had a license to heckle me in public. I decided that I had to defend myself if I wanted to continue in school. The resulting scuffle had to be broken up, and I and my enemies were separately invited to Zippe's office. The end result was that Zippe appeared before a class assembly and made the following statement: It is cowardly, and therefore "undeutsch", to gang up against a single student, and any repetition of such an incident would result in expulsion of the perpetrators. In retrospect, in view of what happened, his naive definition of what is "Deutsch" and "Undeutsch" is rather amusing.
I left the school in June 1938 before the end of the school year. The decision to leave was my own, and to the best of my knowledge the school made no attempt to force me out. However, my final record (Abgangszeugnis) states that my religion was the reason for leaving the school. My final record was fair and maintained my status as a "Vorzugsschuler". In retrospect I think that Zippe stated the reason for my early departure in order to protect my right to be accepted at the appropriate level in another school. After I left the school I moved to Miroslav, Czechoslovakia, where I studied intensively for the entrance examination to the Jewish Gymnasium in Brno (Bruhn). This was not a simple matter, since the language of instruction in the Jewish gymnasium was Czech, and their curriculum was richer in subject matters such as literature, philosophy and history.
I remember several events that took place in Laa before my departure: (1) Shortly after the Anschluss all Jewish women were forced to clean all political anti Nazi slogans painted on roads and walls. I understand that young Nazi punks (the pride of the new Austria) were looking on and jeering. Just before my mother was forced to participate in this outrage (she was later somehow "liberated" by some of our workers), one of my good friends invited me to a bike ride, and was rather insistent that I join him. I now wonder if he tried to keep me away. It turns out, that this friend of mine became an SS Untersturmfuhrer (he died in Yugoslavia during the war). He may have known what was going to happen. (2) The Nazis appointed one of our workers (not one who commanded any respect) as foreman (some type of politruc). The night after this announcement somebody surprised him in the dark and mugged him (I hope he did a good job). (3) The Nazi Administration nominated an "Arisator" for our factory - I believe his Name was Bodner. My father was instructed to turn the business over to him. After this legal theft my father realized that there is no hope. He stated that "the floor is burning under his feet" and tried to buy a "capitalist certificate" to Palestine. However he obviously did not have the connections which at that time were sadly required, in addition to the exorbitant cost of the certificates which were outrageously overpriced. The sad fact at that time was that Jews were permitted to leave the country, but nobody wanted to accept them. I also remember that shortly after the Anschluss Mr. Adler, a Jewish neighbor of ours who owned a lumberyard was arrested. At the time I did not know what happened to him, but I was pleased to hear from Magdalena, that the entire Adler family successfully immigrated to Australia.
Czechoslovakia
Unfortunately, my studies during this summer were so intensive (this was my way of fighting back) that I did not devote much attention to the unfolding events. Thus many significant events may have escaped my attention. I passed the entrance examination to the seventh grade of the Jewish gymnasium and rented an apartment in Brno at the beginning of the school year. I do not want to belittle the quality of my education in Laa, but I was amazed by the intellectual maturity and rich cultural background of some of my fellow students.
After the Anschluss, the pressure on Czechoslovakia was increasing and there was much talk about resistance to Hitler. However, the Munich accord was a great disappointment. One provision of the Munich accord is not often mentioned these days: It stated that, if the Czechs should resist, Britain would assist Hitler militarily in the enforcement of the provisions of the accord. This perfidious sellout had a profound psychological effect. The only remaining hope was for Russian assistance, and all kind of unfounded rumors about Russian military preparations were floating around. At some point a notice was published that a general mobilization was imminent. I remember that my father, who at that time had moved to Brno, and some other relatives who expected to be called up were packing their bags. But nothing came of it and Benesh caved in.
As the situation became more desperate, I and some of my fellow Jewish students were frantically looking for some opportunity to join an armed underground movement which would resist the anticipated German occupation. We tried to join the Czech National Guard, who accepted youths our age, gave them uniforms and rifles and assigned them to guard duties in airports and other installations, but we quickly found out that Jews were not welcome. We also considered the communists who were organized in small cells which could go underground. They did not exclude Jews, but they could not be expected to trust anybody who was not a communist before. Most of my fellow students were Zionists. While the Zionist youth organizations probable had the capability to organize an underground, all their efforts were directed toward emigration to Palestine by any possible means, legal or illegal. Just before the annexation of the Sudetenland I joined an anti-German demonstration. A few hundred of us started the demonstration, and soon we attracted a crowd of tens of thousands (Czechs were angry and frustrated). First the demonstration moved on the German House, a known Nazi stronghold. But when the crowds ran out of Germans they started attacking Jewish businesses, some out of antisemitism and others because Jewish names sounded German to them. It was a frustrating experience for me. In summary, I came to the sad conclusion that we could not expect any help from the Czechs.
As I previously noted, my parent joined me in Brno. They left Laa in early fall 1938 after an anonymous tip that my father was about to be arrested, stayed briefly in Miroslav, but since according to the Munich treaty Miroslav was part of the Sudetenland, there was no point for them to sit there and wait for the German occupation. In mid October '38 the German army occupied Miroslav. All Jews were expelled, but the Czechs refused to admit them into their territory (even though they were Czech citizens). My 80-year old grandmother, Betti Jokel, had to spend the night in a roadside ditch. Finally my father, with the aid of one of our relatives who was a practicing physician in Brno (Alfred Keller, the Husband of Wally Jokel, my father's sister), requisitioned an ambulance, in which my father was able to bypass the Czech border guard (with flashing emergency lights) and bring my grandmother to Brno.
After the fall of the Sudetenland, immigration to Palestine seemed the only practical option for escaping the Nazi occupation. As I already noted, my parents tried and failed to obtain a certificate. However, I was accepted in a Youth Allah group that was scheduled to leave in early April 1939. Sometimes in January I left school and entered a camp where we underwent preparatory training. Our group left Prag on April 5. 1939, traveled by train to Marseilles, and by ship from there to Haifa. We arrived in Haifa on April 14, 1939.
Some of the events prior to my departure are of interest. The Germans occupied Czechoslovakia in three phases. First they occupied the Sudetenland and Southern Moravia. Then, around December 1938, they occupied Brno and some other areas which had some German population. Finally, in early April 1939 they occupied the rest of Czechoslovakia and set up a puppet government. I witnessed the entry of the German army into both, Brno and Prag. When they entered Brno I stood on the sidewalk and watched. There was a ghostly silence and none of the civilians lining the sidewalk uttered a word. They entered in parade formation, first armor and then infantry and hundreds of motorbikes. It was almost a surrealistic experience. Several days later I visited the family of one of my fellow students, a girl who was in the same youth aliah group. It was dark and the streets were deserted, but in most windows there were large Christmas trees with lighted candles. The thought crossed my mind that all these people could at least retreat to their families, Whatever was in store for them, they would survive if they obeyed the rules. But we were like hunted animals. I never felt lonelier. When the German army entered Prag I was there waiting for our transport. We were instructed to bring rubber boots and rubber raincoats to Israel. Since the weather was rainy, I wore this equipment on the day the German army marched in. It very much resembled the black leather outfits worn by the local Nazis who lined the streets to welcome their "liberators". Thus by default I was swept along by the crowd of Germans and could not get away. First I had to listen to long speeches by Keitel and Jodel. I will never understand how grown, educated people could listen to their nonsense and transparent lies and cheer, even if they were pro Nazi. I also saw Hitler standing in a Window in Hradshin Castle, giving the Nazi salute to the crowd below. Of course the Germans all cheered (after all now they were the master race) and the Czechs generally stayed off the street and out of the way (I did not have to worry, because I could pass for a German).
Since at that time we thought that any Jewish traveler was at risk, I departed for Prag more than a week ahead of schedule. My father joined me there a day before my departure. When we took leave in the railroad station, we looked at each other silently for a long time. Intuitively we knew that we would not see each other again. The Germans did not try to obstruct our departure, except that our railroad car was locked during its passage through Germany.
After my departure my parents remained in Brno. On January 28, 1942, almost three years after my departure, they were deported to the Theresienstadt ghetto. On October 16, 1944 they were deported from there to Auschwitz and murdered. I was able to communicate with my parents from time to time, first by regular mail, and after the outbreak of World War II through the Red Cross. I also was able to send some food packages. Some, but not all my letters reached my parents. The thought that my parents could have escaped if they had simply left everything and gotten out of central Europe to any country that was willing to accept them causes me much pain, particularly as I grow older and realize how young they were when they were murdered. Part of the problem was that they had the option to leave for Czechoslovakia, and my studies in Brno contributed to their decision to do so. Later, after the occupation of Moravia, they also felt obligated to help the rest of the family. When it finally became clear that the situation was utterly hopeless they had no place to go.
Very few members of my immediate family survived the holocaust. Of my parents' generation only four out of 23 family members survived, one couple who lived in Vienna and emigrated to the US, and one couple who lived in Merano, Italy. Of the people living in Czechoslovakia nobody survived. In my generation six out of 15 family members survived. Of the six, three emigrated to Israel, one emigrated to South America, one survived in Theresienstadt, and one survived in Auschwitz.

Israel

In Israel I was assigned to a youth aliah group from Austria and Czechoslovakia. Our new home was in Afikim, an older Kibbutz in the Jordan Valley. The idea was to inculcate in us the ideals of the Zionist labor movement and to prepare us for life in a new settlement of our own. The first two years we studied the Hebrew language and culture half of the time, and the rest of the time we worked in various branches of agriculture. We then stayed another year in which we worked full time. Near the end of this period a member of a new settlement in Eastern Galilee (Naameh - later Kfar Blum) convinced us to join them. His "sales pitch" was memorable, and the fact that he succeeded was even more memorable. He stated that Naameh (named after the adjoining Arab village) was a small new settlement struggling to survive. Malaria was so bad that sometimes everybody was sick and there was nobody left to care for the sick. The conditions were extremely primitive and only by hard work could the place survive. The settlement was surrounded by sometimes hostile Arabs, and the British army could abandon the area at any time, leaving the settlement to fend for itself in case of a German advance. We decided to join anyway, and didn't regret it.
After approximately one year of work in our new settlement I volunteered to serve in the Palmach, our underground army (our settlement had to send at least one member). After a training period I was assigned to the "Plugah Yamit" (our embryonic navy) which was charged with the responsibility to transport illegal immigrants from European ports. This was no easy task, because our shores were blockaded by the British navy. As the struggle with the British mandatory government reached crisis proportions, we also participated in commando raids against British installations (rail lines, radar and police stations, and a camp of the police mobile forces (PMF).
On June 29, 1946 (the "Black Shabat"), the British army tried to destroy our political and military infrastructure. I was arrested together with another 3000 Israelis and incarcerated in the Latrun detention camp. I was in good company since many of our military and political leaders, and even the chief Rabbi, were there. Initially the CID (British intelligence) tried unsuccessfully to pry information out of us, but after some time they pretty much left us alone. My stay in the detention camp was rather relaxing, the "Yishuv" showered us with food parcels and books, and I used the time to catch up on my reading. I was released sometimes in October (I do not have the exact date) and decided to propose to my wife, Shoshanna (Martha) Braun, one of the Viennese members of our Youth aliah group.
Marriage at that time in the kibbutz consisted of asking the housing commission for a common apartment (ours consisted of a 6 x 8 ft room, just large enough for me to stretch out in bed). After we married I asked for, and was granted, an extended leave from the Palmach. However, my leave was not to last long. There was a concentration of Syrian troops on the border, and in accordance with intelligence reports they planned to attack one of our settlements. I was assigned to the "Yiftach" battalion, which at that time was headquartered in the Eastern Galilee and had a unit in Kfar Blum, and charged with leading daylight patrols along the border. Our purpose was apparently to convince our adversaries that we would not just sit in the settlements and wait for them to attack. Nothing came of that Syrian attack, but by February 1948 the Arabs began to attack our transportation lines. Our units escorted transportation convoys and were involved in several firefights. I was briefly detained by the British army in the Rosh Pinah police station when we tried to reach a bus which was under attack near Safed with a makeshift armored pickup truck, but we were released after several days, when the British received a threat from the local Haganah commander. Finally, in mid March, the Arabs cut off Kfar Blum and two other settlements by digging a trench across the access road near the village of Halsa (now Kiriat Schmoneh). We successfully occupied the area, but were driven back by the British army, leaving the settlements temporarily cut off.
In mid April 1948 the British left the Galilee and turned all the strategic camps and police stations over to the Arabs. On April 20 we unsuccessfully tried to take the Nebi Yushah police station which was strategically very important and suffered tragic losses. After this fiasco we prepared an attack on Safed, as part of "Operation Yiftach". The Jewish quarter of Safed was surrounded by 20,000 Arab soldiers and constantly under attack. We had one platoon there and there were also Irgun units in defensive positions, but the defenders were hopelessly outnumbered. When the British left, they turned over the strategic Mount Kanaan police station to the Arabs, cutting off all communications with the Jewish quarter (they graciously offered to evacuate the Jews). Prior to the attack we had to bring in supplies and personnel under cover of darkness through very difficult enemy controlled terrain. After one unsuccessful attack, we finally took the important strategic positions in the city on the 12th of May, just 2 days before the formation of the State of Israel. We expected a difficult fight for the Arab quarter and Kanaan police station, but to our surprise all the Arabs had left during the night, leaving us in control of the City. The conquest of Safed demoralized the Arabs and they left most of the villages in Eastern Galilee (we never forced them to go). On June 14, the neighboring Arab countries invaded Palestine, with the objective of "throwing the Jews into the ocean". On June 16 we carried out a commando raid deep into Lebanese territory and destroyed the large Litani bridge, which connects Syria to Lebanon. After Operation Yiftach our involvement in the War of Independence was more peripheral in terms of the overall war effort. One important operation in which we had a key role was "Operation Data", in which we participated in the conquest of Lyddah and Ramleh (the present area of Ben Gurion Airport). After the second armistice we were integrated into Zahal (IDF). This was difficult for us to accept, because our organization was egalitarian and we did not have such things as uniforms that identified ranks, salutes, officers messes and privileges. As a matter of fact, most of our ordinary soldiers at that time were probably better trained and qualified than most of the officers of the newly created army.
Shoshanna also served in the war of independence. She was a nurse, and in Kfar Blum she was in charge of the infirmary. She also was in charge of the secret Kfar Blum weapons arsenal ("Slik") and an instructor in small arms. She was first drafted into the Eastern Galilee regional command where she organized their first aid operation, and later served in the same capacity in the Oded battalion. I was officially discharged from the army in 1950.

After the war we returned to Kfar Blum, where we stayed until April 1956, with a short interruption in 1950, when Shoshanna visited the United States to see her family and I worked outside the Kibbutz in order to earn the money for her trip. Her sister and brother, who were younger than her, had left Austria before the war and emigrated to the United States (their emigration was sponsored by the Bnei Brit). Her parents survived the war in Vienna (her mother was "aryan" and therefore was able to support and protect her father), and after the war joined her brother and sister in the US. In Kfar Blum between 1950 and 1956 I was in charge of the design and construction of the Hazbani-Dan river diversion project, a regional irrigation project which captured my imagination, and Shoshanna was in charge of the organization of the work force of the Kibbutz (job allocation-sidur avodah), probably one of the most difficult jobs ever created.

Our two older children were born at that time. Uri, our oldest son, was born in 1951. At the time of his birth I served in the army reserves. We had a crisis with the Syrians who tried to prevent the construction of a weir in the Jordan river in the demilitarized zone, and I was the intelligence officer for the regional command. In retrospect I wish the Syrians had succeeded in preventing our project which was associated with the drainage of the Huleh swamps, an ecological disaster with global repercussions. Our daughter, Yael was born in 1953.
United States
After my discharge from the army I gave some thought to my career. As long as you are up against great difficulties and challenges, your work is a challenge in itself and you are satisfied, but when your work becomes routine you have to ask yourself whether you realized your potential. I decided to study engineering and enrolled in a correspondence course of the British Institute of Engineering Technology. In 1950 I applied to the Technion in Haifa, but I was told that they are swamped by applications from younger people and would therefore decline to accept me (I was all of 28 years old when I applied in 1950). I was rankled by their rejection and decided to study somewhere else. In 1956 Shoshanna’s father became very ill, and we decided to visit the US with the children. While in the US, I was accepted in the engineering school of the University of Connecticut. As a foreign student I was permitted to work 30 hours a week, and the 30 hour limitation was later removed as a result of my academic performance. I attended lectures from 8 AM to 1 PM, and then worked in an engineering office until 10 PM. This arrangement worked out well, and later, after we gained permanent residence status, Shoshanna was also able to work as a teacher. I received a Bachelor of Science degree in civil engineering in 1959, and my faculty advisers recommended that I continue my studies. I entered graduate school, received a Master of Science degree in structural engineering in 1961, and a Doctor of Philosophy degree in soil mechanics in 1963. I also received professional licenses in Engineering and Land surveying.
Our youngest son, Benjamin, was born in 1961.
In 1962 I joined the Firm of John Clarkeson in Albany NY, and we later founded the firm of Clarkeson, Clough and Yokel who employed approximately 200 engineers and technicians. After several years in consulting practice I decided to switch to academic work. I accepted a professorship at the school of advanced technology of the State University of New York (SUNY) at Binghamton, and after SUNY decided to discontinue their graduate engineering program in Binghamton, I accepted a research position at the National Bureau of Standards (now the National Institute of Standards and Technology) in Washington D.C., where I carried out research programs in geotechnical, structural, and earthquake engineering. I enjoyed my work and published over 100 papers.
Shoshanna studied at the University of Maryland. She received Bachelor and Master degrees in German literature and completed all the requirements for a Ph.D degree in linguistics. She taught German literature at the University of Maryland, and later foreign languages (German, Hebrew, French) in Montgomery County, Maryland public high schools. We both retired in July 1993, I at the age of 71, and she at the age of 69. Even though I still do consulting work, we now want to do some traveling and camping, and many other things we never had a chance to do.
Our children are independent, and we are proud of their accomplishments. Uri is an architect, and lives with his wife Kathy, a physical therapist, in the Washington, DC area. They have 3 children: Nathan, Erin, and Zachary. Yael is a physician specializing in internal medicine and lives with her husband John (Ellis), a business executive, in Florida. They have 2 daughters, Coral and Hope, and a son, Dylan. Benjamin is also a physician specializing in dermatology and lives with his wife Heidi, a professional nurse, in Minnesota. They have 3 children, Ilana, Joshua, and Peter.
As I look back at my life since the Anschluss I begin to realize that I never suffered any deprivation. Any hardships or dangers I may have faced I perceived as challenges and adventures. In view of the terrible fate of my family this makes me feel guilty. I am also increasingly upset about the indifferent attitude of the Allies to the Jews during the holocaust. The fact that many Theresienstadt inmates and other Jews could have been saved is now fully documented.
Epilogue
Uri Yokel (son), June 7, 2010
Felix Yokel died of complications related to leukemia on November 27, 2005. He placed a high value on education, and greatly appreciated the opportunities afforded to us in the U.S. His life’s work includes significant contributions to standards for earthquake and hurricane resistant construction, foundation design, and radon gas mitigation. He was internationally recognition for his contributions to engineering technology and continued to work as a consulting engineer until his death at age 83.
Felix clearly bore a heavy survivor’s burden and rarely, if ever spoke of his terrible experiences following the Anschluss. In 2005, only three months prior to his death, Felix traveled to Austria to join a handful of surviving residents from the decimated Laa Jewish community in the dedication of a memorial commemorating their murdered family members. Felix and Susanne donated significant funding for construction of the memorial, which would not have been realized without years of tireless work by the Mullner family in Laa. The memorial afforded him a degree of closure by honoring the memory of his parents, Emma and Karl Jokel. He also felt very strongly that an enduring record of the genocide was important, not as a historical artifact, but as a “wake up call” to remind us that antisemitism continues to persists, and atrocities may occur at any time within our own communities if we fail to actively oppose injustice and cruelty. For this reason, Felix also remained a strong supporter of the State of Israel, which he viewed as the only place in the world where Jews are fully in control their own defense and destiny.