Continued, The Correspondent
Dear Sybil,
My father was in denial about the situation for Jews even though, as Americans say, the writing was on the wall.
He forbade talk of it at the dinner table.
He was always laughing too loudly when the rest of the village had become somber.
He did not want to accept what it was to be Jewish under the Nazis, but then a man my father worked with disappeared.
His name was Levi Holtz. Holtz was also a Jew, and it was one day my father was supposed to meet him to look at making repairs to a building on the edge of the town, and the man didn’t arrive.
My father called up to his house and the housekeeper answered.
She said when she had arrived in the morning to work there was not anyone there but the dog trapped in the larder.
That was when my father had to remove his head from the sand.
He snapped into action and made some calls.
He found us passage out of Germany and set it for the end of May.
My father was friendly with everyone—Jews and Christians, no matter, always the life of the party and smiling and saying yes because it was good for business, obedient to the new rules and friendly with the Nazis, thinking if he behaved they would treat us better.
He’d built houses or buildings and things for so many people, and he was well liked because he only ever said the things people wanted to hear.
He taught me that, too. To say what people want to hear, not necessarily the truth, because most people tell you they want to hear the truth, but they do not, and if you tell the truth it will come back to bite you like a snake finding its own tail to swallow.
I remember how he would say this to my brother and me and I didn’t like the way it sounded because my mother taught the opposite, that if we do not say the truth we have nothing. We are nothing.
You were right when you said that sometimes writing something difficult is easier.
Every year the anniversary of that day comes and I grieve.
I cut flowers to put in a vase in memory of my brother and my father, but also I cut roses for the celebration of your birthday, which makes me glad.
I feel fortunate we have become friends the last couple of years.
I had reached a point of thinking my life had run out of surprises.
Tracey said this cake was the best one they make at the bakery, good for breakfast or dessert. I hope you enjoy it.
Yours,
Theodore