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.”