With the enemy Russian army advancing and artillery sounding in the distance, Mom was desperate to save herself, my four-year-old brother, and one-and-a-half year old me. Purely on instinct, she fled our homeland.
This excerpt from the audio version of my book provides a snapshot of those events.
The audio version of the book is available for purchase here.
We crossed the angry North Atlantic in March, 1952, on the USS General Ballou. Our worldly possessions were in five small wooden crates, two suitcases, and Dad had his beloved violin. This audio clip tells of an amusing event at Ellis Island involving the violin and a suspicious customs agent.
More information about the audio version of the book can be found here.
The subtitle of the book is: “A story of war, deprivation, courage, perseverance, and triumph.”
This audio clip tells a story from the winter of 1946. We were starving. I was fearful I would not have anything to eat for dinner. An act of kindness filled my stomach and filled me with joy.
More information about the audio version of the book can be found here.
The dangers and hardships brought on by WWII transformed Mom from a shy young housewife into a lioness, willing to do anything to save her children. In late 1944, at a refugee camp in Nazi-controlled Austria, she contracted diphtheria. After several weeks she was released from the hospital. This short audio clip explains how Mom, still in a weakened condition, saved my life.
More information about the audio version of the book can be found here.
Mom, Dad, my older brother, and I arrived at Union Station in Columbus, Ohio at 5 :00am, after an all-night train ride from Grand Central Station, New York.
Why Columbus? In those days immigrants needed sponsors that promised jobs for the adults and a place for the family to live. Our sponsor was Christ Lutheran Church, of Bexley, Ohio (a city within Columbus’s city limits).
Ma and Pa Peters, a retired couple, opened their home to us. After arriving, we ate a huge American breakfast of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and toast.
That morning we attended Easter Sunday services at Christ Lutheran. We stood at the front of the church, were introduced, and were welcomed by the church members who had arranged for employment and housing.
Without a sponsor, we could have not come to America.
Thinking back for the three previous months, our “baths” consisted of washing with a rag and a bowl of cold water. Fortunately, before attending church, we took turns bathing in warm water. We had lived in our clothes, without laundering, for the entire 12 days aboard ship.
Thankfully, in our two suitcases, was a second set of clothes for each of us. If we stank, the kind Christians welcomed us anyway. I’m sure Mom and Dad were concerned about the cleanliness issues. I didn’t care. I had eaten a good breakfast!
Thank you Christ Lutheran. Happy Easter to all. He Is Risen.
After 12 days crossing the angry north Atlantic, we arrived at Ellis Island on April 12, 1952.
Excerpt from my memoir:
“I remember all one thousand darkly dressed, orderly refugees waiting in lines at customs. We had our two suitcases and Dad’s violin, which he had kept with him on the ship.
The customs agent questioned Dad at length about his violin. Maybe he wanted to confirm that it was really Dad’s. Finally the agent asked Dad to play the violin. Rather than being nervous, Dad relished this opportunity to play in front of such a large audience of scraggly-looking refugees. He enjoyed playing and soaked up the moment. All activity, including talking, stopped in the big hall while he played. When he finished, everyone applauded.”
It was April 12, 1952: seventy years ago. I saw Lady Liberty from our ship.
We were processed at Ellis Island. Mom, Dad, my brother, and I received our LEGAL ALIEN CARDS. I still have the card. We left behind, hunger, oppression—and began a new life of freedom, rule of law, right to own property, freedom of religion, freedom from fear, and being rewarded for work. All we had to do to live the American Dream was to work hard.
Before being permitted to immigrate, our family was vetted for four years. Mom and Dad had to prove they were not Nazis or communists. They also had to pass a criminal background check. Nazis, like cockroaches scurrying in the light, were trying to hide all over the world. The USSR was already working to destroy the USA and was sending spies. Even my 11-year-old brother was “interrogated” several times. The “interrogators” were matronly ladies, who questioned my brother privately, behind closed doors. What better way to find out what Mom and Dad really thought and had done in the past than to ask a child? We always thought vetting was reasonable and wise.
I look with incredulity at our current southern border. Millions of people from 160 countries are illegally crossing. I suspect that the great majority are coming for the same reasons as my family. They think: “How illegal can it be to cross the border if the federal government gives me a cell phone, and buses or flies me to somewhere in the USA?” Before being processed, many migrants throw away identification documents they had with them. No criminal background checks are done. How many are cartel members, MS-13, gang members, common criminals, murderers, pedophiles, rapists, or terrorists sent by our enemies? The answer: We don’t know. Those who fit those descriptions will prey on American Citizens.
Nazis (National Socialist German Workers Party) killed Jews, Roma, homosexuals, and the handicapped. Twelve million non-Germans were sent to slave labor camps where many perished. The USSR (Union of Soviet Socialist Republics) toll of innocents killed is estimated to range from 40 to 60 million. That is more than the Nazis killed. The communist killing methods of choice were a bullet in the back of the head or to starve in the Gulags. Like countless others, my dear cousin was sent to a slave labor camp where she nearly died.
Cartel and MS-13 members kill with bullets, with the occasional added the twist of dismembering bodies. I see no moral difference between Nazis, communists, cartel members, MS-13, and terrorists. The only difference is the technology used to kill.
It made sense on April 12, 1952, to protect the American people by only allowing immigrants who would be a positive addition to America, to come. It still makes sense.
Seventy years ago, today, Mom, Dad, my brother, and I were sailing across the angry North Atlantic to the promised land. It was the fourth day since embarkation. I was within several months of my 9th birthday. An excerpt from my memoir follows:
“Once the seasickness subsided, we regained our appetites. For the first time in my memory, we had all we wanted to eat. The mess hall was super clean and was brightly lit. Food was served cafeteria-style.
After taking an aluminum tray from one of the tray stacks, we would slide them along three stainless pipes as the American merchant marine sailors plopped food onto the tray. We had never seen so much food! It was delicious!
We ate standing up and, when finished, dropped off our trays. We were not permitted to take food with us to the living quarters. Of course, I would get hungry between meals. In my case I was still feeding the intestinal parasites (worms) I had lived with for years. The worms took their share of nutrition and calories from my food. I was hungry all the time.
On the ship, I wore a dark pair of pants similar to sweatpants, which had elastic at the bottom of the pant legs. I took extra rolls, opened my elastic waistband, and dropped them into my pants. Gravity worked so that the rolls ended up at the bottom of my pant legs, safely held in place by the elastic. I put so many rolls down my pant legs that the bottom of my pants bulged out and I had to walk with my feet apart. Talk about bell-bottom trousers!
The sailors working in the mess hall noticed, smiled, and let me go my way. God bless Americans!”
Lindy is listening intently as I review what I plan to say during the Google Meet with two Herrin High School English classes. The classes had just finished reading 1984 by George Orwell. Their teacher thought my family’s experience living under communism would add to their understanding. The students were attentive and respectful…and Lindy slept.
Out of hundreds of books submitted, my memoir Why Can’t Somebody Just Die Around Here? was selected as one of the top 100 “Notable” books of 2021 by the Shelf Unbound Best Indie Book Competition!
You can view the issue free online: https://shelfmediagroup.com/portfolio/december-january-2022/
Get your own signed copy of my memoir at right here or order a copy from Amazon.