Born 19 years apart, siblings Fred and Rachelle had very different childhoods

Writer Rachelle Unreich, 57, has looked up to her big brother, entrepreneur Fred Milgrom, 76, since he taught her to read when she was just three. When he urged her to interview their dying mother, she took his advice.

Rachelle Unreich: “Fred suggested I interview our mother when she was sick – not for book material but as a distraction.”Credit: Simon Schluter

Rachelle: Our mother, Mira, was 12 and living in Slovakia when the war started; she was in a concentration camp at 17 and liberated at 18. When she had Fred in Prague two years later, she had a nanny and a housekeeper; she wasn’t a hands-on mother the way she was for me later. She expected Fred and my two older sisters to be well-behaved. After she split from her first husband in Melbourne in the 1960s, she’d come home from work to find they’d put the kettle on for her. I was not that child; I was pounding on doors when I didn’t get my way.

When Fred came to Australia at 12, he read the dictionary to learn English. I was born [to Mira and second husband Manny] when Fred was 19 and he taught me to read when I was three. He gave me Watership Down and The Little Prince. Fred was a hippie and studied for a long time, so he was still living with us in his 20s. He became co-founder of Outback Press. He published a book about [1970s rock band] Skyhooks and became friends with Red Symons; I thought he was a celebrity, too.

When I was 16, Fred was a haven. My mother couldn’t really understand matters of the heart – she’d missed out on that whole stage of teenage romance – and he could explain things to her. And at Fred’s house, there were floor-to-ceiling books in every room. I got my first article published when I was 20 in The Age; I’d sent it to Fred for feedback beforehand and he’d just said, “Send it in!” It meant a lot because of all the authors he’d worked with.

“When Fred came to Australia at 12, he read the dictionary to learn English ... he taught me to read when I was three.”

Rachelle Unreich

Fred suggested I interview our mother when she was sick – not for book material but as a distraction because she was losing her joie de vivre. [Mira died in 2017, two years after a cancer diagnosis.] He’d organise the siblings to bring food to our Friday-night dinners at our childhood home in Elwood. I’m the chicken-soup-and-meatball person and he makes the cholent, a bean and smoked-meat dish.

I’ve always leaned on Fred; he was the one who heard all my complaints when I felt I had no work during COVID. He was like, “Write that book!” But I’m not even sure he read my manuscript [of Mira’s story, A Brilliant Life, out now] because he finds it much too difficult to read books or watch films about the Holocaust. He told me he loved it, but he usually reads a book in a day and this took him months.

What I love most is his kindness. We don’t share the same father, but when it’s the day of memorial of my father [who died in 2005], he takes my son to synagogue because it’s something men do together. Those gestures feel so thoughtful and heart-healing.

When I was 26, I was in a tuk-tuk crash in Thailand. I developed gangrene and nearly got septicaemia, and they weren’t sure I’d make the plane-ride home. I was taken from the tarmac to hospital and Freddy was waiting there. He had tears in his eyes and couldn’t talk. When you can see so visibly how much you mean to somebody, it can shake you to your core. And I have always felt that between us – something deep and profound.

“That’s Rachelle – over the top”: Fred and Rachelle were the only ones to dress up for a Mary Poppins singalong.Credit: Courtesy of Rachelle Unreich and Fred Milgrom

Fred: Rachelle was Manny’s first child, and having a baby two months premature was nerve-wracking for him. Our mother, though, had absolute confidence [she’d survive]. Because she was Manny’s only child, she was babied possibly more than my sisters and I were. When she was one, I would feed her olives and pickled cucumbers, just to see what would happen. For her sixth birthday party, Manny organised pony rides at our house.

When Rachelle started writing, she used what was going on around her for inspiration. My niece was vegetarian and Rachelle wrote this story about my mother cooking “potato surprise” for her. The surprise is, of course, that there’s chicken in it. That didn’t happen, but it made an interesting story; it got published and became part of the family folklore.

When she was in that accident, our mother went to Thailand; if she hadn’t, Rachelle probably would’ve lost her leg. She was fortunate that the accident happened just outside a Bangkok hospital, but it was a horrific injury. It took a long time for her to heal and she had difficulty coming to terms with the disfigurement, but she moved past it.

“When Rachelle was one, I would feed her olives and pickled cucumbers, just to see what would happen.”

Fred Milgrom

Earlier this year, I came down with COVID and Rachelle came every day with food. We know we can call on each other. We bond over our Jewishness also: when there’s a Jewish holiday or when it’s time to say prayers for someone who’s passed away. She’s on the board of the St Kilda synagogue and we still have our Friday night dinners, which give us an opportunity to cook some of our mother’s meals again.

Since [Mira] passed away, Rachelle has become the most spiritual of us. When my mother and grandmother were taken to Plaszow concentration camp [in Poland], they were split up and my grandmother was taken to the gas chamber. Later, my mother was despairing and wanted to give up, but she had a dream that her mother was feeding her and saying, “Just hold on until your birthday.” And on her 18th birthday, she was liberated. Rachelle wanted a sign from our mother, too. As she was coming to the end, Rachelle said, “How will I know you’re around? Let’s make it a blue bird.” Sure enough, Rachelle has seen blue birds.

Once, she asked me to go to a Mary Poppins singalong at the Astor Theatre. She was Mary Poppins and I went as the chimney sweep. We thought everybody would be dressed up like they do for The Rocky Horror Show, but it was just us. That’s Rachelle – over the top. For parties, Rachelle transforms her whole house into whatever theme it is and has candles everywhere and special decorations and hires a performer. She did it for my 70th. I love her generous spirit; she makes sure everybody’s enfolded. She’s just a joy to be with.

To read more from Good Weekend magazine, visit our page at The Sydney Morning Herald, The Age and Brisbane Times.