Last night, my husband and I invited one of his friends over for dinner. This man is a holocaust survivor with an incredible mind, great sense of humor, and a positive outlook on life. I have been trying to better understand the Israeli/Palestinian history and wanted to hear his opinion on this topic.
In keeping with his wonderful sense of humor, Lou described one of his initial experiences upon arriving in Cincinnati not long after World War II. Despite being multi-lingual, English was not one of his languages. He and his wife were relocating from Paris, France where they had briefly owned an apartment. He took the $1000 proceeds from the sale to a downtown bank.
Lou didn't know what to do, but immediately handed the iron back to the teller, trying to explain that he didn't need an iron. The teller handed the iron back to Lou. Each was getting more and more frantic as the line lengthened behind him. Finally, the teller asked if there was anyone in line who could speak a foreign language. Luckily for all, a German-speaker stepped forward and translated for the teller. The iron was a free gift for opening an account and they just wanted him to step to the side while they printed up his new bank book that reflected his deposit.
Lou was so relieved. He couldn't imagine facing his wife with the news that he had traded their life savings for an iron they did not need.
It made me consider, once again, how much I take for granted. Despite my love of travel to foreign countries, I have rarely been confronted with not being able to communicate because of my lack of knowledge of THEIR language. I travel with the knowledge that I will always be able to find someone who knows English. Think for a moment of how you would deal with having your entire family killed, having fought and been shot three times as a soldier fighting the Nazis, been relocated from one country to another because no one wanted you, and finally coming to Cincinnati and trading $1000 for an iron. I don't think I would come through such experiences with such class and humor. I'm proud to know him.
Note: Lou tends to keep his story to himself, but gave me permission a year ago to share part of his story on the blog. You can read about him here.
A beautiful and emotional story!
ReplyDeleteUntil I walk a mile in your shoes - -
ReplyDeleteReally, we just have no idea about our neighbors, our friends, even our families experiences. We each walk a different path through this life.
Loved this post!
Wonderful how a "simple" story can pack such a wallop. Of course, she who is telling the story gets some credit, too. Well done, Kathy!!
ReplyDeleteMy husband and I lived in a country where we knew little of the language. It was very challenging, but we didn't face any experiences like this one you describe of Lou's. I know I take so many things for grated. Lou is one of those amazing survivors!
ReplyDeleteWhat a great story - and thanks for sharing it. We don't realize how lucky we are and how difficult and challenging life can be for those who don't speak the language or whose circumstances might keep them on the sidelines in our society. I agree that we need to "walk a mile in their shoes" and always keep trying to understand other people, cultures and countries.
ReplyDeleteIt is so hard to really understand what survivors experienced. The true extent of the horrors they experienced defies common sense. How people could be so vicious. He is a brave man and I hope that he decides to share his entire story with the Holocaust Museum. We can never forget what happened.
ReplyDeleteAnother great post, Kathy!
What a wonderful story. It captures the flavor of the experience so perfectly. I have often thought of how ethnocentric we are assuming the world will speak English, and of course they do. It makes the world seem much smaller and more accessible for us, but it does force Europeans to have a level of fluency that I can only envy (not for lack of trying).
ReplyDeleteWhat a fine man and a great story. I hope that Lou shares his entire story in some way - writing it or narrating it for recording.
ReplyDeleteGreta and Cheryl,
DeleteLuckily, he has written down his entire story. He has also done a recording for the Holocaust Museum. I put together a book with pictures and part of his story last year. He only wanted it for family. He said he doesn't understand why his story would have meaning for anyone else. I would love to share the whole story. Maybe someday he will let me.
Your story is one of survival, perseverance and optimism. Just to be able to go into a venerable institution like a bank and try to make oneself understood in a foreign language. Frightening indeed. It's a testimony to his spirit that he's been able to survive and thrive. Thanks for sharing this uplifting tale.
ReplyDeleteAlong with everyone else, I too loved this story Kathy. Thank you to you and to your friend Lou for sharing his story, and thank you for including the original post with that haunting photograph. It took my breath away.
ReplyDeleteCheers to both of you,
Jennifer
Thanks, Jennifer. As I said earlier, I put together a book for him. His extended family ended up all over the world including Sweden, Uruguay, Israel, France and the United States. He married a non-Jew whose father was killed along with 440 Polish intellectuals. He published the newspaper. All of it is beyond comprehension.
Delete