Holocaust Survivor Finds Joy After Decades of Depression

After surviving the Holocaust as an infant and losing 500,000 fellow Hungarian Jews to genocide, Erika Schwartz spent most of her life drowning in depression.

Born in Hungary just weeks after the Nazi invasion in 1944, Schwartz and her mother were the only survivors in their entire family. Her mother, Jolan Hornstein, had lost her siblings, parents, grandparents, husband, and every other person she loved.

"The only person I knew was a broken, grieving woman," Schwartz told a crowd at the University of Missouri this week. "Throughout my childhood, she was all I had. She was my teacher, my role model, and my only source of comfort. And she failed at all of those."

Schwartz carried the weight of intergenerational trauma for decades. Even after marrying "the love of her life" and adopting two baby boys, she couldn't escape the darkness.

"I didn't even know if I had the capacity to be happy," she said. "I was drowning in depression, and I knew that my life depended on finding a different path."

In her mid-20s, Schwartz began seeing therapists and eventually joined a support group for child Holocaust survivors. But the real breakthrough came from an unexpected source: a speaker at an addiction recovery program.

Why This Inspires

The speaker shared words that flipped a switch in Schwartz's mind: "You may not have control over anything that's happening around you, but you have complete control over everything that happens between your two ears."

Schwartz started writing daily gratitude lists about her life and family. A friend suggested she take long walks and stop to smell roses along the way.

"I did. I smelled the roses in just about every yard I passed," she said with a laugh. "I must have looked pretty goofy to my neighbors. These wonderful twilight years of my life are happier than I can ever describe. I owe it all to those magic words I heard so many years ago."

Now in her late 70s, Schwartz shares her story across Missouri, where she finds audiences more receptive than on the coasts where she previously lived. Nearly 1,500 people have visited a traveling Holocaust exhibit at the Columbia Public Library since it opened in February.

Jen Campbell brought her two 12-year-old daughters to hear Schwartz speak. "They know that as they get older, the chance to actually meet a survivor is getting less and less," Campbell said. Her daughters had asked to leave school for an hour specifically to attend.

Schwartz's message resonates beyond Holocaust education. Her journey from survivor to someone who chose happiness proves that healing is possible, even from the deepest wounds.