95-Year-Old Holocaust Survivor Finally Shares His Story

At 92 years old, David Diamond finally had his bar mitzvah at Peninsula Temple Beth El in San Mateo. By the time most boys celebrate this coming-of-age milestone at 13, Diamond had already survived Nazi slave labor, lost both parents, and fought in combat missions.

Now 95, Diamond is one of the few remaining Holocaust survivors on the Peninsula. Born in Poland, he was forced into the Warsaw Ghetto as a child, where he smuggled drugs so his physician father could treat patients.

At 12, he was arrested and sent to work on a German farm for two years. A Russian soldier liberated him and put him on top of a train car back to Poland, warning him to lay flat at underpasses or risk decapitation. Diamond laughs about it now, though it wasn't funny at the time.

For decades, he couldn't talk about his experiences. He once tried speaking publicly but choked up on stage. "Once I remind myself of my mom and dad, that's it. I'm broken up," he said.

Everything changed over Mongolian beef and Scotch at King Chuan, a Chinese restaurant in San Carlos. His son Todd, an advertising copywriter, started asking questions, and the stories finally flowed.

Todd turned those conversations into "Pass the Trauma, Please," a recently released memoir unlike typical Holocaust stories. It's somber but equally humorous, detailing not just survival but the messy, complicated lives that followed.

Sunny's Take

What makes this story special is its unflinching honesty. The book doesn't just portray David as a hero overcoming evil. It explores multigenerational trauma, misplaced rage, and questionable choices alongside moments of humor and humanity.

Todd discovered details he never knew, like how his grandmother was murdered by Nazis in a hospital. He only learned this when his father reflexively cried out watching a similar scene in "Schindler's List."

The memoir captures David's characteristic humor. "It's like Larry David meets Alan Arkin meets Mel Brooks when he really gets going, especially if there's a Scotch in his hand," Todd said.

With rising antisemitism and Holocaust revisionism, combined with David's age, the urgency to preserve survivor stories has never been greater. But this book does more than document history. It shows how trauma travels through generations and how families heal through connection, laughter, and truth.

At 95, David Diamond is finally sharing the story he couldn't tell for seven decades, proving it's never too late to find your voice.