Emotionally charged issue for heirs Area Jews join frustrating hunt for names on Swiss list

There it was, printed in black and white: Max Lewin, the name of Mani Feniger's grandfather.

Feniger hoped this could be the resolution she had longed for. Growing up, the Berkeley resident had heard her late mother speak of a Swiss bank account opened by Feniger's grandfather, a German dentist, in the early years of Nazism's rise.

In a dramatic reversal of Switzerland's famed bank secrecy laws, the Swiss Bankers Association published a list in major newspapers and on the Internet last month identifying non-Swiss holders of dormant Swiss bank accounts.

Lewin's name, in tiny type, was one of more than 1,800 on the list.

"When the list came out, I was ecstatic," Feniger said.

Cautiously optimistic at the same time, the 52-year-old hypnotherapist phoned the international accounting firm handling claims for the accounts and requested a claim form, which demands such identifying information as the presumed account-holder's maiden name (if any), nationality and place of birth.

Also requested is a death certificate, if available, as well as a will or similar document.

But Feniger soon received a disappointing letter informing her the Max Lewin who held a Swiss bank account was not, according to the information she had submitted, her grandfather.

"What angers me is to get a letter in formal `bankese' with no acknowledgment that this is an extremely emotionally significant issue for me," she said, adding that she plans to further pursue her search.

For Feniger and other Holocaust victims' heirs seeking to reclaim lost assets, the issue is emotionally charged indeed, according to Sheryl Groden, coordinator of Holocaust survivor programming at Jewish Family and Children's Services in San Francisco.

Since the matter of the Swiss bank accounts first hit the media less than two years ago, Groden has heard from dozens of callers interested in investigating the possibility that their relatives had now-dormant accounts.

As yet, she knows of no one who has recovered assets.

Still, Groden believes the publication of the list has made a notable impact. As the Swiss finally admit possession of these accounts, "I think it's validating for some people," she said.

Eva Maiden, vice president of Tikvah, a support group for local survivors and their families, agreed.

"This is a good first step," said the Palo Alto psychotherapist whose family fled Vienna to Switzerland shortly after the Germans invaded Austria. "And it's only a first step."

For now, said Groden, some of her clients are confused about filing claims and about how long it might take to reclaim lost assets. In addition, she said, they have expressed distrust and rage that the dormant accounts are being opened only now.

Time is running out, the heirs noted, to access the accounts and gain any sense of relief that might bring.

The outrage of Jeannette Ringold of Menlo Park over the half-century delay "goes without saying." But Ringold, who survived the war in hiding in France and whose parents died in Auschwitz, is also outraged that when she attempted to fill out the claims form last year she was asked to submit a processing fee of 300 Swiss francs (about $200).

"That really stopped me in my tracks," she said. "I can't believe they dared to do that."

Since publishing the list, the Swiss Bankers Association has stated it will foot all costs for the review of claims. Claimants, however, will have to finance any professional services they seek in conjunction with filing their claims -- attorneys' and accountants' fees, for example.

Like many of those who have scoured the lengthy list for names of relatives, Ringold, a 57-year-old Menlo Park translator, has no proof that her parents, Max and Martha Kalker, opened a Swiss bank account.

She only suspects they might have.

After placing their two children in hiding in France, the Kalkers fled to Switzerland but were turned away. They later died in Auschwitz.

Last year, before the hubbub over the accounts began in earnest, Ringold decided to pursue the possibility her parents had once opened an account.

"I thought it would be worth checking," she said. Put off by the fee, however, she decided not to file the document.

When the list appeared July 23 -- one week before a massive class action lawsuit filed on behalf of Holocaust survivors and victims' heirs was scheduled to begin in New York -- Ringold was neither surprised nor disheartened her parents' names did not appear on it.

For one thing, she realized the list will ultimately have a tangible effect on relatively few people. Also, she believes some names may have been left off. "I'm sure that's not the full list," she said. "It seems very small."

In fact, the list -- which can be found on the Internet at http://www.dormantaccounts.ch -- contains twice the number of names the bank association said existed last fall. A list of 20,000 other accounts opened by Swiss citizens, many of whom acted as proxies for Jews afraid of reprisals, is slated to be published in October.

Even if the names of Ringold's parents appear on that forthcoming list -- and Ringold doubts they will -- "the money itself is of little importance," she said. Cracking open a dormant account "would just be to complete the history...more than any other thing, a piece of the puzzle."

In truth, most of the accounts contain relatively small sums. Worth at least $42 million cumulatively, two-thirds have a value of $3,500 or less.

Like Ringold, Feniger said money is not the issue.

"It matters, but I think there's something more important here."

Particularly important to Feniger is a sense of historical closure, a symbolic comforting reply to her mother's sense of futility and frequent declarations that "everything is lost."

"It does emotionally have more to do with my mother than me," she said. "It has a lot to do with coming to peace with something that my mother couldn't bring to completion during her lifetime."

Like Ringold, Feniger filed a claim even before the list appeared. After filling out the form and paying the then-required 300-franc fee, she was informed no record of an account held by her grandfather had been located.

Now, after the roller-coaster ride of first seeing his name on the list and then being told the account-holder is not her grandfather, Feninger found herself distressed, confused and skeptical.

"I don't know what to think," she said. On one hand, "knowing the whole world is watching, [the Swiss] must have some substantial reason" for stating that her grandfather did not have an account.

"On the other hand, I don't believe it for a minute."