was a smart woman. She named me well. I have been lucky all my life.
In what way? Trudy asks.
In what way? Mr. Pfeffer repeats. His brows again rise, wrinkling skin the color and texture of caramel. Why, in almost every way. I am blessed with good health and an optimistic disposition. My business interests in this country have thrived, as you can see. And in Weimar, during the war, while so many of my compatriots were dying in such nasty ways in the Russian snow or the deserts of Africa, my business ventures exempted me and fed me and kept me warm. Until my unfortunate incarceration, that is. But I managed to survive, and here I am—whereas so many others of my generation are rotting in the ground . . .
Mr. Pfeffer pats Trudy’s knee, his hand lingering perhaps a bit longer than it should.
And if that isn’t lucky, dear lady, he says, his small brown eyes shining, what is?
60
THE GERMAN PROJECT Interview 14
SUBJECT: Mr. Felix Pfeffer DATE/LOCATION: May 10, 1997; Minnetonka, MN
Q: . . .You mentioned your business interests in Germany, Mr. Pfeffer. Can you tell me more about that?
A: With pleasure. To begin with, at fifteen I was an apprentice to an antiques wholesaler in Weimar—Fizel, his name was. I fibbed about my age in order to get the job, I must confess. But while my numerous siblings contented themselves with woodcutting and carpentry and other forms of manual labor, I somehow had been born with a taste for the finer things and a talent for persuasion, and within a few months I became Fizel’s best salesman. When I had learned as much as I could from him, I advanced to working for a jeweler whose specialty was old stones in valuable settings. I traveled the Continent seeking such merchandise, and while doing so I met a great many influential people with an appetite for acquisition; in addition to gems, they wanted art, carpets, rare books. I soon discovered that I possessed, you should forgive my immodesty, an exceptional ability to procure for them whatever they asked for. By the time the war broke out, I had established quite a name for myself. I was only twenty-two then, but already on my way up. And as the Reich came to full power, other business opportunities presented themselves, of which I took quick advantage.
Q: What opportunities were those?
A: Well, I suppose you could say I became a broker [subject laughs ]. Yes, a broker.
Q: A broker of . . . ?
A: Why, people, my dear, of course. Jews escaping the oncoming juggernaut. It is true that many of them did not recognize the danger in time; they put their heads down and prayed it would pass. But there were plenty who were desperate to get out, and thanks to the numerous connections I had made, both among the wealthy and the, shall we say, less reputable element, I was able to help them. They were frantic to barter whatever they could to secure visas, new identification papers, passports. The supply soon overwhelmed the demand, I can tell you. I was swamped with furs, silver, paintings, heirloom jewelry, a grand piano or two. One family even convinced me to take [laughs ] a canary in an antique cage. The bird naturally was worthless, but the cage was solid gold and I was able to find a home for it in short order.
Q: And what happened once you had accepted these payments?
A: I would put my Jewish clients in touch with the right people, and those people would get them out. Despite the Gestapo, there was a strong Resistance network in Germany, at least in the early days. As to what happened once I had turned my clients over to my contacts, that I do not know. I assume most of them got out.
Q: Did you ever feel guilty about making money this way?
A: No, dear, not at all. I did feel sorry for the Jews, but guilt? No.
Q: Then do you see yourself as a hero for helping Jews to escape?
A: [laughs] Oh my, no. Allow me to explain. In wartime there is always excellent business to be done, if one is only enterprising enough to spot the opportunities. As a historian you must know that certain men have always built fortunes from others’ misfortune. If there must be wars—and given the nature of man, they are inevitable, sad but true—then why should one not profit from them if he