The Kraków Ghetto

Ghetto, noun.

1. An area in a city, especially in Europe, in which Jewish people live, often under restrictions imposed by non-Jewish authorities. Now historical.

Originally applied to the Jewish Quarter in Venice, and later to those in Italian cities. The last remaining ghetto in Italy (that of Rome) was abolished in 1870. During the Second World War (1939-45) German occupiers in central and eastern Europe revived them as a means of repressing and confining Jewish people.⸻Oxford English Dictionary

Limanowskiego Street in the Kraków ghetto.

The first Jews to come to Poland likely arrived in the 10th century from countries like Spain, France and Germany. They were travelers and merchants who sought refuge from persecution such as that during the Crusades.

By the 13th century waves of Jews came to Kraków. They were especially welcomed by King Casimir (Ⅲ) the Great and settled in a suburb of Kraków named after him. Kazimierz was located south of the old town of Kraków, across a now non-existent branch of the Vistula River.

The Kazimierz District has now been annexed into the city of Kraków and is known as the Jewish Quarter. For centuries the Jews lived and worked there, becoming the bedrock of the community.

Detail of door and graffiti in the Kraków ghetto.

Nowadays, of course, most of the Jews are gone from Kazimierz, but remnants of their existence still remain. Among many other notable places are the Old Synagogue and the Remuh Cemetery.

After World War Ⅰ and the Treaty of Versailles, Poland regained its independence after years of being partitioned and dominated by other rulers. But during the years between 1918 and 1939 the Jews of Kraków had their rights usurped little by little. Norman Jacobs, a writer on the Holocaust, puts it this way:

“Having caught the attention of the popular (that is non-Jewish) vote, a number of large Jewish-owned businesses were nationalized in the late 1930's and other restrictions―including the prohibition of ritual slaughter of animals, and working on Sundays―were made against Poland's Jewish population. Unassimilated Jews were forbidden to work in the civil service and in the army. In the previous decade, quotas had been enforced for a while, restricting many prospective Jewish students from entering some Polish universities since, according to the government, too high a proportion of students were Jewish; in the previous decade, 25 percent of Kraków's college students had a Jewish background.

“Separate benches for Jews and non-Jews existed from 1937 in some Polish universities. These were called 'bench ghettos'. The anti-Semitic atmosphere of 1930's Europe was a major contributing factor to the genocidal social policy that the Third Reich planned and carried out.”

Kraków ghetto, 1941. German officer checks papers of Jews.     

In September of 1939 Nazi Germany invaded Poland and World War Ⅱ began. The rights of Jews continued to erode at a much quicker pace, although not all at once. The following chronology of the pre-ghetto period of Kraków is given in Bernard Offen's book, My Hometown Concentration Camp:

6 September 1939, First detachment of German Army in Kraków, 9 am. Bread lines and rationing. First beatings and forced labor for all ages 16 to 60.

8 September 1939, Order made for all Jewish businesses, shops and stalls to be marked with the Star of David the following day.

20 November 1939, Jewish deposits and bank accounts frozen.

8 – 24 November 1939, Registration by Nazis of all Jews from Kraków and the surrounding areas.

1 December 1939, Creation of the Judenrat (Jewish Council). List for forced labor drawn up. All Jews 11 years old and above obliged to wear white armband showing the blue Jewish star.

4 December 1939, Confiscation of automobiles and motorcycles.

5 – 6 December 1939, All homes in Jewish Quarter of Kazimierz searched.

26 January 1940, Jews without special permission forbidden to travel outside Kraków under penalty of death. Jews forbidden to travel by public means of transportation.

April 1940, Hans Frank orders displacement of Jews in Kraków (approximately 16,000).

1 May 1940, Jews prohibited from walking on the Planty greenbelt around Rynek Glówny.

May 1940, Jewish homeowners in central Kraków evacuated. Property confiscated by Nazis. Exclusion of Jews from schools.

15 August 1940, Jews forbidden from entering Kraków city center.

25 November 1940, Edict on permanent residence made resulting in the expulsion of many Jews from Kraków.

3 March 1941, Order made forcing relocation of remaining Jews in Kraków to the ghetto. Initial population: 15,000 to 17,000 people.

Map of Kraków, Poland.

Gate leading into the ghetto.

That brings us to the Ghetto Period of Kraków from 1941 to 1943. Using Bernard Offen's book, My Hometown Concentration Camp, as a guide, my wife and I set out to explore the old Jewish ghetto. Bernard was just a young boy during the Holocaust.

Whereas the old Jewish Quarter (Kazimierz) was located just south of the historical center of Kraków, the new Jewish ghetto (in Podgórze) was located just south of Kazimierz, across the Vistula River. Bernard Offen describes the forced moved this way:

“Jews were forced to leave the old Jewish District of Kazimierz – 'for your protection from the anti-Semitic Poles', according to the Germans. The entire Jewish Quarter of Kraków was taken over by the Germans and 'Aryanized,' something that included putting a brothel on Miodowa Street . . . On the day before the ghetto was sealed, much activity took place, people moving and carrying their possessions to the ghetto . . . The Nazis spared themselves no amount of shame or callousness in choosing the holiest day in the Jewish calendar Yom Kippur, (the Day of Atonement) as the last day for entering the ghetto.”

Jozef Pilsudski Bridge across the Vistula River. 

Jews cross the Vistula River in a forced relocation to the ghetto.

Jews brought their personal belongings.  Unknown to them, everything they owned would eventually be confiscated. 

The ghetto, at that time, was completely surrounded by a wall, confining them to an outdoor prison. The Germans thought it humerus to make the wall resemble Jewish headstones. Nowadays there are only two fragments remaining: one off Limanowskiego Street and the other on Lwowska Street.

When we visited the fragment off Limanowskiego I was surprised to see it next to playground equipment. The small grassy area served as a little park. I watched the children on the equipment, seemingly indifferent or unphased that they were playing next to a wall that once imprisoned and eventually aided the murder of thousands of kids their same age.

Fragment of the wall off Limanowskiego Street.

Wall fragment on Lwowska Street.

Old photo of the ghetto wall. 

It is interesting that Streetcar Number 3 went right through the ghetto. Bernard Offen explains: “. . . the streetcars kept running through the ghetto for almost the whole time of its existence. Everyday, lots of people rode through the ghetto, looking with curiosity at the conditions under which we had to live.”

As Germans and Poles on the streetcars passed through the ghetto and saw the conditions of those poor Jews, I wonder what went through their mind, or were they past feeling?  

Two tram lines still run through the boundaries of the former ghetto, both of them running along Limanowskiego Street, perhaps using the same rails as those of old.

Modern-day tram running through the ghetto.

In the days of the ghetto, no Jews could ride the streetcars, even though it ran through their neighborhood. 

On Józefińska Street #5 was the Mikveh, or ritual Jewish bathhouse. Bernard recalls going there with his father on Fridays before the Sabbath. The building there now looks modern and I doubt it is the same building.

Across the street on the corner of Józefińska and Węgierska was the Central Hospital. On 28 October 1942 all the patients and staff were murdered. Bernard describes what happened during this horrific event:

“Afterwards, my brother Nathan and others had the task of throwing the bodies out of the windows into the courtyard. There were little babies in the hospital. Some were just a few days old and still crying. Nathan saw German SS men pick babies up by their feet and throw them through the window. Outside they were hitting them against the sidewalk again and again until there was silence. They were doing this with all the little babies.”

His brother was forced to load the corpses into a wagon, then follow it to a mass grave where they would unload them. Some were still alive. As they did this they were accompanied by German and Ukrainian soldiers.

“On one of the last transport of corpses, of which there were a number, the SS started shooting at the people in the commando working on moving the bodies, since they wanted to wipe out all witnesses of their crime. My brother, seeing what was happening, jumped into the pit. Covered in blood, and acting as if dead himself, Nathan stayed in the mound of bodies to avoid being spotted. Anyone who moved was shot straight in the head by the couple of men who stayed around looking for any possible escapees. Nathan survived that night. After everything had calmed down, he crawled out from under a heap of bodies, under the cover of night.”

Central Hospital where all staff and patients were murdered in 1942.

Cruelty of the Nazis.

Located aside the Plac Bohaterów is the Apteka Pod Orlem, or The Pharmacy Under the Eagle. This pharmacy was operated by a Catholic man, Tadeusz Pankiewicz. He was the only non-Jewish Pole to maintain a business inside the ghetto. It was of interest to the Nazis to keep out disease by dispensing medicine and basic aid to the Jews.

The pharmacy became a place for clandestine operations, sheltering people and aiding the Jewish resistance group. Mr. Pankiewicz provided hair dyes to make the sickly Jews appear healthier to avoid deportations to the extermination camps. He also provided parents with drugs to help their kids sleep during hiding. He did many other things to help the Jews.

Today the old pharmacy has been restored and it is one of the few (and perhaps the only) museum within the walls of the old ghetto. The museum is simple, but gives the visitor a feel of what it may have been like during the ghetto period.

Apteka Pod Orlem, or The Pharmacy Under the Eagle.

Tadeusz Pankiewicz.

There are three points of interest located just outside the ghetto walls. The first is Oskar Schindler's enamel factory, made famous from Stephen Spielberg's movie Schindler's List. It has now been renovated and turned into a museum that not only teaches about the factory, but the entire Holocaust experience in Kraków.

Schindler, a German, took over the factory from a Jew, as they were no longer allowed to own businesses. At the peak, it is estimated he employed 1,750 workers, most of them being Jews. By employing them and deeming them “necessary” for the cause of the war, he was able to save them from deportation to the extermination camps. It is estimated that Schindler saved 1,200 Jews.

Oskar Schindler's factory, now a museum.

Enamel pots made in the factory.

Portraits of people saved by Oskar Schindler. 

Another similar, but less famous operation, was the Madritsch Clothing Factory. This was also located just outside the fence, but on the other side of the ghetto on Podgórski Market Square.

In this factory they sewed German army uniforms. Although he belonged to the Nazi party, Julius Madritsch helped over 4,000 people during the war, Jew and non-Jew alike. In 1944 he was arrested for assisting the Polish Underground, but was later released through connections he had.

Location of the Madritsch Clothing Factory.

Inside the clothing factory sewing German uniforms. 

Adjacent to the factory was St. Joseph's Church, a place of worship for Catholic Poles. Bernard Offen describes his experience in the market square and with the church in the period before the war:

“In the years before the Nazi invasion, I used to accompany my mother or father to the Rynek―the market―to purchase milk, butter, eggs, cheeses, fresh vegetables, or an occasional chicken. I liked the excitement of lots of people shouting and selling their goods, and the special aroma of the market.

“The main building on Rynek Podgórski is the Saint Joseph Church. Although it's a beautiful church, I rarely looked up at the church when I walked by because as a child, I was afraid. Being a Jew, I was the butt of verbal taunts or was pushed down and spat upon. After all, to many Catholic children, I was a Christ-killer.”

St. Joseph church in Rynek Square.

Back inside the ghetto, our final destination would be Plac Bohaterów, the plaza in front of The Pharmacy Under the Eagle. Before the war it was known as Plac Zgody, or Concord Square. It served as a center of commerce, as well as the site of a bus station.

All this changed as the war began and it became a part of the ghetto. The square became most noted as a staging place for deportations, usually to extermination camps such as Auschwitz.

One such roundup or “aktion” happened on June 4, 1942. Hundreds of Jews were murdered in the streets, while thousands were put on trains and sent to Belzec extermination camp. This massacre and act of violence became known as Bloody Thursday.

Nazi soldiers in Plac Zgody.

Another massacre came in March of 1943 when the entire ghetto was liquidated.

Prior to this the Germans created a Kinderheim (children's home), a place where children under 14 could live while their parents worked. The parents were told they would be taught to weave baskets and other skills that would help them when they got older.

By this time a new concentration camp, Plaszów, had been built. Depending on their ability to work, Jews of the ghetto were either sent to Auschwitz-Birkenau (extermination camp), Plaszów (labor camp), or murdered in the ghetto.⸻ The children from the Kinderheim were shot in Plac Zgody.

Empty chairs in Ghetto Heroes Square.

Nowadays the square has been renamed as Plac Bohaterów Getta, or Ghetto Heroes Square. On the square are 31 empty chairs, representing the former residents of the ghetto who lost their lives.

Bernard Offen describes the final days of the Kraków Ghetto:

“On the morning of 13 March, SS-Oberscharfüher Albert Huyar arrived and shot infants, mothers, doctors and nurses at the main hospital at Jósefińska in the second large Aktion there. My father, brothers and I remained in the square for a large part of the day, while shooting and terror surrounded us, later to be marched to the Plaszów slave-labor camp, carrying some clothing, food and cooking pots, as hundreds of others were being shot in the streets.

“It is estimated that the deaths of around 3,000 people resulted from the liquidation of the Kraków Ghetto, perhaps more.

“Now the ghetto was really Judenrein (Jew-free). The 800-year old community of Kraków Jews had been irreparably destroyed, its people and the property and artifacts of its culture. Synagogues, Torahs and other holy books were all burned or simply stolen and re utilized, part of the Nazi's depraved actions.

“On 14 March the ghetto in Kraków ceased to exist.” ♠

Liquidation of the ghetto in 1943.

Corner of Rękawka and Węgierska streets.

Sources

Aside from Bernard Offen's book, information for this post came from touring the ghetto myself, and visiting Oskar Schindler's museum.  All the modern photos are mine, while the old ones have been pulled from other sites. 

Jewish Cemeteries of Kraków

New Jewish Cemetery on Miodowa Street in Kraków, Poland.

The Kazimierz District of Kraków is known as the Jewish Quarter. The Jews lived here until they were forced into the ghetto during the Second World War. Today there are still remnants of Jewish presence in the Jewish Quarter, including synagogues and a kosher restaurant.

In the center of the district is the Remuh Cemetery, one of the oldest Jewish cemeteries in Europe. I found the outer brick walls on Jakuba Street and walked completely around the graveyard, looking for a way in. I did this twice and finally conceded that the entryway must have been through the synagogue, which on this day was closed for a Jewish holiday. That would be my luck!

Outer wall of the Remuh Cemetery.

Remuh Cemetery, also known as the Old Jewish Cemetery. 

On the west side of the cemetery, framed within the brick wall, was a grated aperture where one could peer inside and see the graves. I pushed my face to the metal grate and took in the site. It was indeed a lush graveyard, with green plants and trees growing all around. The tombstones were far enough away I couldn't read them, but they appeared to be inscribed in faded Hebrew. I have read that the oldest preserved tombstone date is from 1552.

The Remuh Cemetery has a long history of ups and downs. After 150 years of active use, it was ordered by the government to close in 1799. This was in response to an effort to build cemeteries outside of city limits for health reasons. Land for a new cemetery was purchased near the Vistula River.

After the closure, the cemetery fell into disrepair. By the early 1900's many of the monuments were toppled, sunk into the ground, or became missing. One man lamented, “Here and there, gloomy tombstones, overgrown with greenery, protrude from the ground. Time has erased their inscriptions, sculptures and various decorations. A large part of the cemetery is almost empty.”

In 1943, when the Kraków ghetto was liquidated and Jews were sent to the Plaszów concentration camp, mobs began to plunder graves and destroy tombstones. During this time the cemetery was used as a garbage dump. Only a handful of tombstones survived.

Old Jewish Cemetery in Kraków, Poland.

There are several legends associated with the cemetery. One involves Rabbi Moses Isserles Remuh, the founder of the synagogue and cemetery. During the war German officers excavated his grave on the anniversary of his death, hoping to plunder what was inside. Instead, they found a corpse that still looked like a living, sleeping man. This spooked them so much that they fled and didn't return.

The slow work to restore the cemetery began nearly a decade after the war. Archeological projects uncovered over 700 graves beneath layers of soil and rubble. Less damaged tombstones and sarcophagi were repositioned, but it was impossible to match them with the correct graves. Fragmented tombstones were used to create a mosaic on the inside wall of the cemetery.

By the time I was peering inside the cemetery in 2025, the grounds looked very clean and well kept. I would have never guessed that at one time it was in disrepair.

Kowea Itim le-Tora Synagogue in the Old Jewish Quarter of Kraków.

I circled the cemetery again, passing the Old Synagogue and walking along Szeroka Street. This street was used by Steven Spielberg in his movie Schindler's List to depict the Jewish Ghetto.

At the top of the street, and across from the Remuh Synagogue, is a little square. According to one account, this used to be the oldest section of the cemetery, even though nowadays it is located outside the cemetery walls. There is a memorial here written in Polish, Hebrew and English commemorating the Holocaust: “Place of meditation upon the martyrdom of 65 thousand Polish citizens of Jewish nationality from Crakow and its environs killed by the Nazis during World War Ⅱ.”

New Jewish Cemetery on Miodowa Street.

New Jewish Cemetery.

Less than a quarter mile from the Remuh Cemetery, on Miodowa Street, is the “New” Jewish Cemetery. When it was created, this would have been just outside of the Kazimierz District and across a branch of the Vistula River. (In modern times that river branch has been filled in and there are railroad tracks and a road.)

On another day (that wasn't a Jewish holiday) I came to visit the New Jewish Cemetery and found the gates unlocked. This cemetery was established in 1800 in response to the closure of the Remuh Cemetery. The first thing I noticed were the outer walls made with fragments of tombstones. From my understanding, these fragments were recovered after World War Ⅱ when Nazis used them as paving stones along the road to the Plaszów concentration camp. The Nazis never missed an opportunity to show how cruel they were.

Inner walls made with fragments of tombstones, New Jewish Cemetery.

This cemetery was one of the most fascinating I've ever seen. Within the walls were thousands of tombstones, all jumbled together in mismatched patterns and leaning every direction or toppled. Ivy-covered trees grew so plentiful and high that any sense of the outside world seemed to disappear. Their roots bulged from the ground, causing tombstones to tip sideways.

The entire graveyard was a sea of tombstones and ivy, with only a handful of alleyways. They were stacked so close together that I couldn't imagine that there would be room for that many burials.

Jumble of headstones at New Jewish Cemetery.

This tombstone uses the Jewish calendar. 

Nearly all the inscriptions were in Hebrew, so I could not understand them. On one of them I was able to decipher the year “5649” from the Jewish calendar. That would be 1889 for us.

During World War Ⅱ the cemetery was partially destroyed. Once source said the Germans used it for a training ground. Aleksander Bieberstein, a Jew who survived the Holocaust, described the cemetery's condition at that time: “Monuments in this area were demolished, graves were open, bones and religious objects were scattered among the dug-up earth.”

German soldier at a Jewish cemetery in Kraków.

Even though this cemetery is a pilgrimage site for many Jews, it is sad to think that most of decedents of those buried were killed in the evil hands of the Holocaust. Those that did escape are likely now to live in Israel or America, and have little opportunity to visit the final resting spot of their ancestors. And for those who do make it here, I would imagine that it is nearly impossible to find their ancestors' headstones among the thousands that are here. Many are so eroded that they're not even legible.

Even the New Jewish Cemetery would eventually become full. In 1932 burials would now be conducted in a newer cemetery, south of the Vistula River in a district called Podgórze. This is where the story of Jewish cemeteries takes another sad turn.

New Jewish Cemetery.

Podgórze was for most of history its own town, separated from Kazimierz and Kraków by the Vistula River. The Jews had their own community in Podgórze. In 1887 they established a cemetery on Jerozolimska Street. It is now referred to as the “Old Jewish Cemetery Podgórze.”

In 1920 the community began construction on a new funeral parlor. It was built in a “Byzantine” style with three domes, the central one being 25 meters high. It was complete with a morgue, embalming room, prayer closet and a ceremony room.

Funeral parlor at the Old Jewish Cemetery in Podgórze.

In 1915, the town of Podgórze was integrated into Kraków. Years later, the Jewish communities of Podgórze and Kraków merged to become one. Hence, when the New Jewish Cemetery on Miodowa Street became full in 1932, the logical place for a new cemetery would have been in the newly incorporated area of Podgórze. Land was purchased on Abrahama Street, which put the new cemetery next door to the Old Jewish Cemetery Podgórze, separated only by a foot path.

In the 1920's a building was constructed for the Chevra Kadisha burial society. This later became known as the Grey House. It was used for administration for the new cemetery on Abrahama Street.

The stage was set. There was the Old Jewish Cemetery in Podgórze next to the New Jewish Cemetery in Podgórze. A new funeral parlor had been build, as well as a building for administration (the Grey House).

Photo of Old Jewish Cemetery in Podgórze with funeral parlor in background.

Then came World War Ⅱ in September of 1939. Everything would change.

With the German invasion of Poland, Kraków became the seat of the General Government, a separate administrative region of the Third Reich. Little by little the Jews of Kraków had rights taken away and property confiscated. In March of 1941 all remaining Jews were forced in the ghetto, a confined area in the Podgórze District.

In 1942 the Germans came up with the idea of a concentration camp just a mile away from the ghetto. This would not be an extermination camp like that at Auschwitz, but a labor camp, and most likely a stepping stone to an extermination camp. The name of this new camp would be Plaszów.

I believe the Germans were very intentional as to where they built Plaszów. First, it was very close to the ghetto, which made it very convenient to transfer people. Second, it was located on the outskirts of town and in a secluded area surrounded mostly by hills, thus making it less conspicuous to the local population. And third, it was built right on top of the old and new Jewish cemeteries at Podgórze. Yes, the Germans were very cruel.

Almost all that remains of the Old Jewish Cemetery in Podgórze are the foundations of headstones.

Old Jewish Cemetery.

Aleksander Bieberstein, in his book The Holocaust of the Jews in Krakow wrote:

“The Old Podgórze Cemetery on Jerozolimska Street had many valuable tombstones, including those made of black Swedish granite, ash-gray Czech granite, and red Trembowla granite. Many of these tombstones were works of stonemasonry. During the construction of the Plaszów camp, all the tombstones were removed, broken into smaller pieces, and used as roadbeds. Black slabs lined the entrances to the so-called Rotes Haus―the house that served as Amon Goeth's first residence in the Plaszów camp. The SS sold many of these tombstones to Kraków stonemasons.

“During the construction of the camp, large bulldozers leveled the site of the future camp, demolishing the remains of surviving graves and monuments, often bringing to the surface the bones of the deceased. The skull bones were carefully examined for any preserved crowns or artificial teeth made of precious metals. The cemetery's funeral home was converted into a bathing and disinfection facility.”

Re-creation of road using tombstones for pavers in the movie, Schindler's List. 

The old cemetery was leveled to build quarantine barracks, a bath, and a warehouse.

The quarantine barracks, built directly on the graves, were used to keep newly arrived prisoners in isolation before being transferred to residential barracks.

On the north side of that cemetery there is a mass grave holding nearly 2,000 Jews who were executed around the time of the liquidation of the ghetto. Mass graves were dug using excavators known as “diggers.” Thus came the phrase in camp of being “sent to the digger.”

As for the new cemetery, every trace of it was wiped clean. The appellplatz, or roll-call area, was built in its stead, along with more barracks.

Remember the funeral parlor that was built in a Byzantine style with three domes? It was converted into a stable by the Nazis for their horses and other animals. When it became too small for all their animals, they blew it up, completely destroying it (except for one wing because their water pump was located in the cellar).

All that remains of the funeral parlor.

The Grey House retained its administrative use, although now for the Nazis. Amon Göth used it as an office. Many Jews were murdered and tortured in its basement, most notably in standing cells where you could neither stand up straight nor sit down.

Jenelle and I visited the site of the former concentration camp. Today it is a very large grassy area with graveled footpaths and signs marking the old sites of Plaszów. All the buildings have been dismantled except the Grey House.

As for the new cemetery, there is nothing there that would suggest it was a burial site. It is a large grass field. While there we saw clusters of people relaxing with their kids or pets on the grass. Everything was very laid back.

The old cemetery, on the other hand, still has the foundations of several graves. I believe archeologists uncovered these decades later. An areal view actually looks like a cemetery. One headstone lies on the grass with most of the front chipped off, making the inscription illegible. There is another headstone that completely survived. It is of Jakub Chaim Abrahamar who died in 1932. He was the great-grandfather of the artist and actress Roma Ligocka, who happens to be the cousin of the film director, Roman Polanski.

Only legible tombstone left at Old Jewish Cemetery.

Just a small walk on the graveled footpath led us to the remains of the former funeral parlor. All that was left now were huge rectangular blocks of stone.

It was a very solemn experience to be in a place where such evil took center stage, and yet was a sacred place to those who had family members who suffered there, or were buried. The saddest part of all is that many of these people who were victims of Plaszów, or were buried in one of these cemeteries, were denied the joy of posterity. Entire families were wiped out during the holocaust.

As Jenelle and I walked back to the tram station, we by necessity walked along Jerozolimska Street. In the time of Plaszów this was one of the streets paved with tombstones. Now it is paved with asphalt and is in a quiet neighborhood. ♠

Jerozolimska Street used to be paved with tombstones. 

Sources

Cmentarze zydowskie w Polsce - Jewish cemeteries in Poland. (n.d.). http://cmentarze-zydowskie.pl

WW2 locations / Best WW2 books non fiction / Documentaries. (n.d.). Maksym Chorny’s Personal Blog on WWII. https://war-documentary.info/eng/

All color photographs are mine, while all the black and white photos have been gathered from other sites. 

Pfeifferhorn (Peak #27)

At 6:30 am we arrived at the parking lot in Little Cottonwood Canyon. I was shocked, not only to see it full, but also overflowing onto the main road. I parked with two tires on the pavement and two on the dirt, in front of two-dozen other cars parked along the main road. I couldn't believe there were so many people here so early in the morning.

As we unloaded our gear I felt like the odd man out. Young men and women, most in their early twenties, donned running gear and small backpacks for water. My backpack was a bulky camouflage bag meant for hunting. And I was the only one I saw with walking sticks.

All I could do was swallow my pride. I was sure that eventually someone my age would show up. At least I was hiking with a couple of people also in their twenties―Jordan and Jenna. We were all anxious to begin this adventure.

Much of this mountain, I believe, was used for mining. Up the road is Alta, historically a silver-mining town, now turned into ski resort. As the three of us now hiked up this rocky dirt path, I thought to myself that it was probably at one time a mining road, as it was wide enough for a vehicle.

As we hiked, several groups passed us, some running and others just walking. It wasn't a race and I had to remind myself that I was no longer in my twenties . . . or thirties . . . or forties!

We crossed a foot-bridge over a rushing stream and then followed a path now enveloped in tree roots. As it climbed in elevation it wrapped around the mountain slope and now we could look down and see the winding highway at the bottom of Little Cottonwood Canyon.

Little bridge crossing White Pine Creek.

Sun rising over Little Cottonwood Canyon. 

My mind was pensive. Just three weeks earlier a 49-year-old man died on this exact route. He was high up on an exposed ridge when a boulder came loose beneath his feet. He lost footing and fell 200 feet in a rock slide to his death. Now that I was here with my two kids, this event weighed on my mind.

At the 3.7 mile mark we arrived at Red Pine Lake, a beautiful reservoir of water perched picturesquely beneath slopes of white broken rock. Of course, there were a couple dozen other people there also. The trees and upper ridge of the gulch reflected perfectly on the placid water.

We took a small break and enjoyed the view. Up to this point the skies remained clear, which was important. We hoped to avoid any afternoon thunderstorms.

Placid reflection on Red Pine Lake. 

Trail wrapping around Red Pine Lake. 

One last close-up of Red Pine Lake. 

The view of Red Pine Lake becomes more beautiful the higher you get. 

Beyond the lake was a confusing spiderweb of paths. We asked for directions and were pointed in the right direction. During this entire hike, the slope gradually became steeper. Now we climbed to an upper basin with two small lakes.

From here the slope really became intense and we climbed the walls of the gulch until at last we stood on a ridgeline. For the first time we could see the Pfeifferhorn.

First view of the Pfeifferhorn. 

This protuberance in the Lone Peak Wilderness was named after Charles “Chick” Pfeiffer, a local mountaineer and ski pioneer, who died of suicide in 1939. He was president of the Wasatch Mountain Club in the 1930's and helped run a lodge at the head of Big Cottonwood Canyon. Before Pfeiffer's death the mountain peak was known as Little Matterhorn, but it wasn't until 2013 when the name change was officially recognized.

Atop this same ridge we could now see Box Elder Peak, as well as a great view of White Baldy. This was a spot for many to lounge around to enjoy the view and reward themselves for having survived such a steep climb. It was also the spot for those who chose not to climb the peak to either turn around, or wait while those in their party pressed toward the summit. There was only half a mile left to go, but it would be a difficult half mile.

The route up Pfeifferhorn. 

Little people atop the summit. 

At the foot of Pfeifferhorn there is a 400-foot ridge with a steep slide area on both sides, the north side being the more treacherous. It is topped with blocks of granite, spewed in a manner to create a good hiking challenge. This section is a definite Class 3.

For Jordan this was a highlight. As a kid he was always the one to get close to a ledge and climb all over dangerous rocks. Now he was in paradise! The were two ways to confront this challenge: either by carefully assessing the obstacle and deciding accordingly, or climbing directly on top and treating it like a catwalk. Jordan chose the latter.

Jenna and I, on the other hand, followed the majority and found the route of least exposure. Sometimes this meant shimmying along the side and then using our arms to climb onto a large boulder, then maneuvering to the right or left.

Jenna on her way up the summit.

This ridgeline challenge took about 25 minutes and was satisfying for all of us. It gave us the satisfaction of doing some semi-technical mountaineering, while at the same time not being too incredibly life-threatening. I remembered that it was somewhere around here where the 49-year-old man died a few weeks ago.

At last we arrived at the base of the peak. From a distance the face of Pfeifferhorn looked dangerously steep, but not so much up close. Don't get me wrong, it still looked agonizingly steep, but doable.

View from near the peak, looking down toward the "ridgeline challenge" linking the Pfeifferhorn with the rest of the trail. 

The final pitch to the summit took us 20 minutes. It was indeed steep, but probably no steeper than our climb out of the gulch. The biggest challenge, other than burning thighs, was not to send rocks tumbling down toward other hikers.

Once on top, the views were amazing. To the west we could see Bighorn Peak, Thunder Peak, and peeking behind them, the granddaddy of them all, Lone Peak. To the south we had a greater view of Box Elder Peak and Timpanogos behind it. In the east I could spot White Baldy, which was nearest us, but beyond it was a jumble of mountains I didn't know. Then to the north, in one spectacular ridgeline was Mount Superior, Monte Cristo, Dromedary, O'Sullivan, Twin Peaks, plus others. I didn't even know which was which, but I did know they were the last leg of the WURL and were pretty sketchy.

View from the summit, looking toward Box Elder Peak and Mount Timpanogos. 

View from the peak looking west toward Lone Peak, Bighorn Peak and Thunder Peak. 

Relaxing at the summit of Pfeifferhorn. 

Jordan kept trying to sit way too close to the edge. The boy hasn't changed in 20 years! I urged him back and all he did was find another sketchy spot. Once again I told him to move and the third time he still found a place close to the edge, but at least it was stable so I let him stay and eat his lunch.

Pfeifferhorn is tucked back in the mountains, so we didn't have a great view of civilization, but we could see part of Utah Lake, as well as a little triangle in the Alpine/Lehi area.

My GPS gave the final elevation at 11,268 feet, but the official measure is 11,326. It is the eighth-highest peak in the Wasatch Range.

Our trip down had a few items of note. First, Red Pine Lake, although no longer mirror-like, now took on a beautiful dark-blue color. We sat on a rock and enjoyed our moment there. Also, I spotted the tailings of an old mine just off the trail. That gave me a little insight to the history of this mountain gulch. And lastly, we took a small detour to a beautiful waterfall that wasn't too far off of the main trail. While there I cupped my hand into the icy water and splashed it over my face several times. It felt good to have all that sweat and grime washed off. ♠

Great view of Red Pine Lake and Upper Red Pine Lake. 

Again down at Red Pine Lake.

Red Pine Lake, now a deeper color.

Pfeifferhorn

Distance from car: 5.5 miles

Elevation gain: 3,614 feet

Final elevation: 11,326 feet

Total distance (including detour): 10.9 miles

Total ascent: 4,057 feet

Waterfall on the way down.