At 74, Adrianna Turk embarked on a genealogical journey that would restore a shattered family tree fragmented by the Holocaust. For much of her life, Turk’s family history was marked by silence and loss. Her father, born Hans before changing his name to John upon immigrating to New Zealand, rarely spoke about his Jewish-German origins. He married a non-Jewish woman and avoided Jewish institutions, determined to shield his family from future persecution.
Turk knew only that many relatives perished during the Holocaust: her paternal grandmother was killed in the Warsaw Ghetto in 1942, and an aunt, uncle, and their two children were murdered at Auschwitz in 1944. For decades, Turk’s family narrative ended in this devastating rupture. However, following the death of her brother in Auckland, she found herself the last surviving immediate family member and felt an acute sense of isolation.
Motivated by this loss, Turk took a DNA test through MyHeritage—chosen for its extensive European databases—seeking to uncover her ancestral roots. The results revealed dozens of previously unknown relatives spread across Germany, Israel, Brazil, and beyond. Among them was a second cousin living in Jerusalem, 73-year-old Raanan Gidron.
Their connection helped piece together a sprawling family history, revealing survival and migration stories across continents. Turk’s great-uncle Max Gusdorf was confirmed to have died in the Sobibor extermination camp in 1943, while other relatives endured multiple concentration camps and rebuilt their lives afterward. Turk and Gidron’s grandparents were siblings, tracing back to great-grandparents Moses and Regina, whose family included nine children. Branches of the family tree had re-emerged globally, from Europe and the Americas to Mandate Palestine years before Israel’s founding.
Gidron’s side illuminated further historical context. His grandfather Max left Germany in 1933 as the Nazi threat grew, relocating to The Hague. His father, Julian, trained as a youth on an agricultural farm designed to prepare Jewish young people for life in Mandate Palestine, where he immigrated illegally in 1939. Julian later joined the Palmach, a Jewish underground military organization, serving in a German-speaking commando unit tasked to counter Nazi advances. After World War II, he helped locate displaced Jewish refugees in Europe and covertly assisted their migration to Israel.
The reunion between Turk and her newfound family members extended beyond virtual connections. Visits to Israel fostered personal meetings, with family gatherings facilitating deeper bonds. Both Turk and Gidron acknowledge the fraught legacy that lingers. Turk described encountering discomfort and hostility from acquaintances when discussing her trip to Israel, reflecting ongoing tensions surrounding Jewish identity. Gidron recalled instances of antisemitism faced even decades after the Holocaust.
For Turk, the experience represents more than a genealogical breakthrough—it is a newfound sense of belonging and continuity. Her discovery reignited a family dialogue long silenced by trauma and displacement. Gidron likened Turk’s role to “opening an old wine bottle,” a catalyst breathing life back into the family’s story.
As Turk prepares to return to Australia, the journey stands as a testament to resilience and the enduring power of connection. Both cousins emphasize that their reclaimed lineage is not solely about remembering past tragedies, but about shaping future relationships and shared identity across generations.