In the quiet rhythm of Zurich’s residential streets, small, brass-capped cobblestones are breaking the pavement to tell stories that the city once nearly forgot. The most recent additions to this decentralized archive of grief honor four women—Rosa, Florentine, Marie, and Mauricette Sticki—all of whom were murdered in the Auschwitz concentration camp in Auschwitz-Birkenau in 1944.
These markers, known as Stolpersteine in Zürich, serve as a permanent, physical disruption to the daily commute. Unlike traditional monuments that require a visitor to travel to a specific site of memory, these “stumbling stones” bring the history of the Holocaust directly to the doorsteps where the victims once lived, worked, or sought refuge. By placing the names of the deceased in the public square, the project transforms a sidewalk into a site of active remembrance.
The installation for the Sticki family marks a poignant addition to the city’s landscape. The four women—members of a single family torn apart by the machinery of the Third Reich—were victims of a systemic effort to erase their existence. The placement of these stones ensures that while they were murdered in a camp far from Switzerland, their names remain etched into the geography of the city they once called home.
The Philosophy of the Stumbling Stone
The Stolpersteine project was conceived by German artist Gunter Demnig, who began creating the markers in the 1990s. The concept is rooted in a Talmudic tradition: a person is only forgotten when their name is forgotten. By engraving the name, date of birth, and fate of each individual on a 10-by-10 centimeter brass plate, Demnig seeks to return the identity to victims who were reduced to mere numbers by the Nazi regime.
The act of “stumbling” is not intended to be physical, but mental, and emotional. To read the inscription, a passerby must bow their head—a gesture that unintentionally mimics a bow of respect to the victim. This interaction forces a momentary pause in the modern urban experience, connecting the present-day resident of Zurich with the ghosts of the 1940s.
In Zurich, the stones are not placed by the city government as a top-down mandate, but often through the initiative of private citizens, historians, and descendants. This grassroots approach ensures that the memory is kept alive by the community itself, rather than becoming a static piece of state-sponsored history.
Tracing the Tragedy of the Sticki Family
The fate of Rosa, Florentine, Marie, and Mauricette Sticki reflects the broader horror of the Holocaust, where entire family units were targeted for extermination. The records indicate that all four women perished in 1944, a year marked by the intensification of the “Final Solution” and the mass deportation of Jews and political dissidents to the gas chambers of Poland.
While the specific biographical details of their daily lives in Zurich are often sparse in official archives, the presence of the stones acknowledges their existence as neighbors and citizens. The stones typically list the last known address of the victim before they were deported or forced into hiding, grounding the tragedy in a specific physical location.
The loss of four women from one family highlights the gendered nature of the persecution and the devastating impact on family structures. The Sticki stones stand as a testament to the void left in the community when these individuals were forcibly removed from their homes.
The Scale of Remembrance in Zurich
Zurich has become a significant hub for the Stolpersteine project within Switzerland. The stones are scattered across various districts, creating a map of persecution that reveals how the Holocaust touched different layers of society, from the wealthy center to the working-class outskirts.
| Element | Detail |
|---|---|
| Founder | Gunter Demnig |
| Material | Concrete cube with a brass plate |
| Placement | In front of the victim’s last chosen residence |
| Core Purpose | Individualized remembrance of Holocaust victims |
The Impact on Local Memory
The installation of these stones often sparks a renewed interest in local history. When a stone is laid, it frequently draws neighbors, students, and historians who seek to learn more about who lived in their building eighty years ago. This process of “micro-history” helps residents understand that the Holocaust was not a distant event that happened only in Poland or Germany, but a tragedy that reached into the heart of Swiss cities.
For many, the stones serve as a warning. In an era of rising polarization, the visibility of the Sticki family’s fate serves as a reminder of the consequences of state-sponsored hatred and the fragility of citizenship. The stones do not offer closure; instead, they offer a permanent question to every person who walks over them: How did this happen here?
The process of identifying victims and securing the placement of a stone is often a lengthy journey of archival research. It involves scouring municipal records, deportation lists, and family letters to ensure that the dates and names are accurate. This meticulous verification is essential to honor the dignity of the deceased.
As more research is conducted into the roles of various institutions during the war, the Stolpersteine continue to expand. They fill the gaps where official monuments may be too general or too distant to provoke a personal connection.
The next phase of remembrance in the city involves the ongoing identification of other displaced persons and victims of the regime whose names have not yet been etched in brass. Community groups continue to collaborate with historians to ensure that no victim who once called Zurich home remains anonymous.
We invite you to share your thoughts on the importance of local memorials or to share this story to help keep the memory of the Sticki family alive.
Leave a Reply