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Bar mitzvah remembers a boy lost more than 70 years ago

When Peter Ryba, 89, opened the letter from a young stranger in the United States, the Australian businessman couldn't believe what he was reading.

Justin Badt and Peter Ryba. (Credit: Todd Photography)
Justin Badt and Peter Ryba. (Credit: Todd Photography)Read more

When Peter Ryba, 89, opened the letter from a young stranger in the United States, the Australian businessman couldn't believe what he was reading.

Are you related to Gregory Ryba, a young Jewish boy who perished during the Holocaust? the letter asked?

Ryba was born in Berlin in 1926 to Polish parents. "We had a good life," he recalled. "We lived in an apartment and were financially doing OK - I had a governess and there was a maid." In 1931, Ryba's little brother, Gregory, was born.

But then the recession hit Germany, and the family moved back to Poland. "The Hitler movement was gaining strength, and we realized anti-Semitism was growing," he said.

The move was tough on Ryba - speaking German was forbidden, and he didn't know any Polish. Of the 60 boys in his grade, only five were Jewish. The teachers tried to keep the peace and separate them, usually unsuccessfully, Ryba said.

His family wasn't especially religious; in fact, they had a Christmas tree for fun. But he was bullied nonetheless. On one occasion, a gang beat some Jewish boys to death, he recalled. In 1938, the violence, combined with the near impossibility of getting a good education, caused Peter's parents to send him to live with an uncle in London. At only 7, Gregory was too young to go with him.

"Getting out of Poland at that stage wasn't easy, as families were trying to get children out already," he said.

Though safer in London, he again faced a language barrier. Not knowing English, the 12-year-old was placed in classes with kids much younger. For the next year, he exchanged letters with his family. "My parents never came to England, and though I was promised that for the summer holidays of '39, I would be allowed to go to Poland on vacation, it was impossible. There was no access."

He never saw his parents or brother again.

As soon as the war ended, Ryba started researching his family's whereabouts. He discovered a Jewish ghetto was created in 1940 in his hometown of Lodz, but there was no record of his family ever being there. Likely Gregory was killed upon transport to a concentration camp, but Ryba could never confirm it.

Meanwhile, Ryba became a civil engineer in London, ultimately moving to Australia in 1950 with his wife, Edith.

These days, Ryba's memories of his little brother are few: He remembers Gregory was the more outgoing of the brothers, that he liked to break Ryba's favorite little lead toy soldiers. Ryba isn't even sure anymore of the month and day of Gregory's birthday.

And then this year came the letter.

The writer was Justin Badt, a 12-year-old boy from Bala Cynwyd preparing for his bar mitzvah. Justin took part in an international program called "Remember Us: The Holocaust Bnai Mitzvah Project," where he could "twin" with a child who died in the Holocaust before he could be called to the Torah. According to the organization, more than 18,000 children in more than 750 congregations worldwide have participated since April 2012.

"I wanted to include something that people everywhere could appreciate, remember, and look back upon," Justin said. True to his nature, the rising seventh grader at Bala Cynwyd Middle School took it a step further, consulting the National Holocaust Research Library in Washington to see if his twin had any living relatives.

He also searched any new records coming into the International Tracing Service, a German-based organization that, among other work, documents how Holocaust victims died. While Justin didn't find anything about Gregory, he saw that a Peter Ryba had done a similar search years earlier, and that Thomas Gregory Levi (Gregory's great-nephew and partial namesake) memorialized Gregory at Jerusalem's Hall of Names at Yad Vashem.

A Google search found the website of Ryba's company - a pump distributor - and Justin wrote the fateful letter. That led to an e-mail exchange and ultimately a phone call between the two.

"When I got the letter, I was surprised. I couldn't understand with over one-and-a-half million children who perished in the Holocaust, how he happened to pick my brother," Ryba said. "It is a miracle."

Justin recalled their phone conversation: "Peter was shocked and happy that his brother was going to be remembered, but also sad because it's a topic that isn't easy to talk about." Justin's dad, Rich, remembered that Ryba was overcome with emotion.

Then they asked: Could Ryba come to Justin's June 6 bar mitzvah?

"His first reaction was very much not wanting to overshadow Justin in any way," said Justin's mom, Heather. "But Justin shared with him how much it would mean to him - that it would be an honor and not a distraction of any kind."

So Ryba and Edith, 84, got physicals to make sure they were healthy enough for a cross-Atlantic journey, and set off for Philadelphia. Ryba, who has four children, 11 grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren, also brought his granddaughter Rebecca, 26.

During the bar mitzvah, Justin spoke about Gregory, and Ryba shared a bit about his childhood, which brought on a standing ovation.

At the reception, the Rybas lit a candle honoring Gregory.

In the end, the Badts say, the two families formed a special bond. "It was a lot more meaningful and exciting than I ever thought it could be," Ryba said.

And for Justin, the milestone came with added lessons.

"I knew what the Holocaust was, I knew it was really bad, but through this I understood the horrors more and it became a lot more personal," he said. "It's hard to imagine dying right now, at this age."

Ryba never learned the exact fate of his family, so the trip, the honoring, and the new relationship gave him a sense of closure.

"It's wonderful that the memory of what happened is passed down to the younger generation."