Book Talk: My Grandfather Would Have Shot Me

Her mother was German, her father was Nigerian. At four weeks of age she was placed in an orphanage. Later, she was fostered with a family, during which time she had limited contact with her biological mother and grandmother. At age 7 her foster family adopted her. She had a normal childhood, received an excellent education, traveled, and earned a degree in Middle Eastern and African studies from Tel Aviv University in Israel. She became fluent in Hebrew.

When she was almost 40 years old, by then married with two children, she made the horrific (and accidental) discovery that her grandfather was none other than Amon Goeth, the sadistic Nazi commandant portrayed by Ralph Fiennes in Schindler's List. The discovery shattered her. How could she tell her adoptive family? Her sons? Her close Jewish friends? How could she reconcile the memories she had of her grandmother with the same woman who lived with Goeth, known as the "butcher of Plaszow" concentration camp? The discovery ultimately sent her into a deep depression and on a quest to unearth and fully comprehend her family's history. 

This is the amazing story of Jennifer Teege, and yesterday I met her. 

My mom and I had gone to hear her speak about her memoir, My Grandfather Would have Shot Me (A Black Woman Discovers Her Family's Nazi Past). She was tall, elegant, and told her story in a soft-spoken voice with a slight German accent. What she shared was riveting, and very moving. 

Later, I handed her a copy of the book to sign. During our brief chat she learned I had written a book.

"It seems we have something in common, you and I," she said in a soft spoken voice. "We are both authors."

And then she autographed the book, signing her name in Hebrew.

[excerpt: Do I look like him? My skin color is like a barrier between us. I imagine myself standing next to him. We are both tall: I am six foot, he was six foot four—a giant in those days.

He in his black uniform with its death-heads, me the black grandchild. What would he have said to a dark-skinned granddaughter, who speaks Hebrew on top of that? I would have been a disgrace, a bastard who brought dishonor to the family. I am sure my grandfather would have shot me...

When I look in the mirror I see two faces, mine and his. And a third, my mother’s.

The three of us have the same determined chin, the same lines between the nose and the mouth.

Height, lines — those things are only external. But what about on the inside? How much of Amon Goeth do I have in me? How much of Amon Goeth does each of us have in us?

I think we all have a bit of him in us. To believe that I have more than others would be to think like a Nazi—to believe in the power of blood.]