In 1944, she was arrested and deported to Auschwitz. The transport, she recalled, was a nightmare — crammed into a cattle wagon with no room to sit, one bucket in the middle that quickly overflowed, no water for days, the air so thick and unbearable that people began to lose their minds from thirst. At one point, a desperate man forced his way through a small window and jumped.

Upon arrival, she narrowly escaped the gas chambers when her wagon was sent back out due to overcrowding. She was later transferred to Ravensbrück, where she endured selections, brutality, and constant hunger. In 1945, during a death march, she was liberated by Russian soldiers.

After the war, Judith returned to a homeland emptied of Jewish life and family. Seeking a new beginning, she emigrated first to England and then to the United States, where she rebuilt her life and became a social worker and psychotherapist.

The war never fully left her. Even decades later, she described small, lasting habits — like refusing to “select” fruit at the supermarket, always taking whatever was on top — and she never wore striped clothing again. The memories of the camps had etched themselves into her daily life.