| A Foiled Assassination Attempt |
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Heart! ~ If you are not a subscriber and this has been passed on to you, join us by sending a blank e-mail to four_ears @ msn.com (remove spaces) with "subscribe" in the subject line. And get the love direct! Tour our web site: http://www.geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001 Tour our archives: http://geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001/Archives.htm ________________________________________________________ "The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can't find them, make them." - George Bernard Shaw ______________________________________ A FOILED ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT SAVED SEVEN LIVES by Dafna Yee When someone manages to get away from a hideous situation, the story is one-of-a-kind, no matter how many of the details are similar. Nevertheless, sometimes even the details have bizarre twists that make them stand out from the rest. My paternal grandmother managed to escape from the hell on earth that had been created by Hitler and his Nazis in a totally unforgettable and unique way. This tale actually began long before anyone had even heard of Hitler; even before the advent of WWI. In that period of time, it was an admirable profession to be an army officer, and ambitious Jewish girls from good families could work for German aristocrats before they got married and settled down to raise families of their own. I'm sure that there is no obvious connection between an army officer and a Jewish girl of 18 in the city of Baden, Germany in the summer of 1913. It's even less obvious how that situation could determine, not only my grandmother's fate, but also her husband's and children's (and therefore mine) more than 20 years later. My Grandmother Theresa's job as a governess to two very well brought up little boys was apparently not very strenuous. At any event, she was free to walk in the beautifully sculptured formal gardens every evening that the weather permitted. Very tall and thick hedges bordered these gardens, and there were benches placed at periodic intervals, surrounded by ordered beds of fragrant and vary-colored flowers. My grandmother told me that on one typical evening, just as it was getting dark and the trees' shadows started casting strange shapes, she overheard two men talking. They were speaking about a well-known army officer. She was curious naturally and quite intrigued, so she listened more closely, but when she started hearing details about plans to assassinate the man, she was terrified. As soon as she felt it was safe, she went to the police station to make a report. Grandmother Theresa did remember being puzzled that, although the police officers were polite to her, they didn't appear to take her or her story very seriously. In fact, when she returned later in the week, she was told that it had been a hoax, and not to worry about it anymore. So she didn't. She even occasionally joked about her gullibility. Years passed, and the incident was forgotten. Grandmother Theresa married a man from Warsaw. Since my grandmother's family was very snobbish, very German, and very patriotic, her marriage to a Polish Jew was very much against family wishes. Luckily, he had money of his own, but her family's attitude toward him was such that they did not settle down near her extended family, who had lived on both sides of the Holland/German border since the Spanish Inquisition. Instead, they moved to the beautiful city of Cologne, where they settled down to run their textile factories and have four children. Here we jump ahead to the summer of 1938 in the desperate months preceding the deportation of Polish Jews living in Germany. My grandmother managed to gather together 10,000 DM (deutschmarks) to bribe the German guards at Dachau to overlook my grandfather's disappearance from the camp and to do the paper shuffling that would cover up his escape. My grandfather and thousands of others had originally immigrated to Germany to escape the blatant anti-Semitism that was so prevalent in Poland. By marrying a Polish Jew, my grandmother was forced to realize that her long German heritage gave her no immunity from the events occurring around her. Ironically, it was my grandfather's threatened deportation that motivated her to make plans to leave Germany. No one else in her family believed the truth in time. They all perished, every one of them. Through family connections (the Chief Rabbi of Cologne was a distant cousin of my grandmother's), she managed to get visas to Palestine. But she still had to get permission from the German government to leave (there was some extra difficulty because the factories that they had owned, even though they were confiscated, had held army contracts). So in the way of all bureaucracies, my grandmother had to go to multiple offices and get many people to stamp loads of documents. And she had to go to each place knowing that any one person in any office, for any or no reason whatsoever, could stop her from leaving Germany. The summer heat grew more oppressive as Grandmother Theresa went from office to office, standing in one line after another. In addition to all her other worries, she was tending three young children (including my very rambunctious father) and was five months pregnant. Several times she felt as if she would simply not be able to make it for another minute. All around her, other mothers and their children were adding to the noise and confusion and the air seemed to grow hotter and more difficult to breathe with every passing minute. Finally, she reached the last office. She only had one more person to see, but she needed this person to give the most important stamp of all, the one dealing with their former government contracts for the army. When the factories were confiscated, many records were lost, and there was simply no way to prove that all their contractual obligations had been fulfilled. Certification of that fact had to be made by a high-ranking army officer. All day she had been dreading this moment, trying to think of some way to explain their lack of necessary documentation and to prove their honesty. When she was at last called into the office, a man in a starched and pressed uniform heavy with medals rose up from his chair and walked around his desk to stand in front of her. Even if she had been tall enough to look directly at him (she was only 4'10"), she would never have dared to do so. The officer held the sheaf of documents in his hand and asked her if her maiden name had been Arendt (her married name was "Meller"), to which she worriedly answered,"Yes" (because this question was out of the ordinary, and anything unusual was something to be feared). And, amazingly, he held out his hand and smilingly said, "I'm glad to be able to thank you at last. I'd be proud to shake your hand." She took his hand in a daze, and he asked her if she remembered him. When she replied that she didn't, he simply said, "I'm the man whose life you saved 25 years ago in Baden." My grandmother was totally speechless, and apparently he really didn't expect her to say anything, because he just smiled again and handed her the stamped and validated papers. She left the office and went home to finish packing. The family left Germany nine days later. The assassination that never took place saved seven lives. Dafna Yee DafnaYee @ aol.net Copyright © 2001 by Dafna Yee. All rights reserved. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ About the author: As a writer and teacher working out of my home in Plano, TX, I often write about Jewish and Israeli issues, humorous anecdotes, women's issues, animals, and stories about the unusual people and events that I've come across in my life. I've been working with people in various difficult situations for nearly 30 years, both professionally and as a volunteer. I offer advice on subjects that include, but are not limited to, domestic violence, sexual relationships and problems, eating disorders, discrimination, and ways of coping with chronic illnesses. I live with two wonderful teenage daughters, Roma and Kathy, one great husband, Tom, one playful dog, Loki, and one big and furry cat, Shadow. The cat's the boss... :-) My favorite activity is talking with people. _________________________________________________________ Find out how Roger Dean Kiser, Sr., is using his life to spell success for orphans coast to coast! He's started the Sad Orphan Foundation in hopes that other orphans may experience kindness. As Roger said, it was acts of kindness, however small, that saved him. For more information, please visit Roger's web site at http://www.geocities.com/thesadorphanfoundation. _________________________________________________________ FROM OUR FRIENDLY E-MAIL CARRIER In regards to "Little Kindnesses" by Beth Shaw (http://geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001/110502.htm) Such a sweet story shared by Beth Shaw today! Imagine the domino affect it would have in all of our lives if we passed on all those acts of kindness. AND, with children, be sure to write them immediately in those babybooks...we have a way of forgetting when they no longer live at home and the years creep up. Thanks for sharing those moments, Beth! Blessings, Diane Dean White Dear Beth, That was a lovely story. It's wonderful to think back on the many acts of kindness in our lives. And remember, "what goes around comes around". It's lovely to be able to pass it on. Thanks for reminding me. - Pat Lowe Jennifer, I was afraid you'd catch that virus. I well remember having to try to care for a tribe while battling misery. It seems your dear ones did the best they could to help Mommy while she was so sick. It seems there were many more people besides me who were praying for T.J. God bless your boys for caring enough to make cards for him to help him feel better after he got home from the hospital. It's so good to hear he has recovered nicely. And God bless you too for teaching your children to share their love. Hugs, Pat _________________________________________________________ ON THE HOMEFRONT HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my Dad! I was thinking of you on Veterans' Day, the tours you've spent in Vietnam, how you were always my war hero. I appreciate all you've done in the Army to guarantee freedom for your family and everyone else in this great country of ours. Wish we could be there to help you celebrate your big day...may all your birthday wishes come true! Yesterday four-year-old Matthew fawned in front of the mirror with his Halloween mask on. He growled at his werewolf reflection, clawing the air, practicing scary poses. His father snuck up behind him and -- "BOO!" "AAAGGGHH!" I guess some boys just never grow up. And speaking of which, many folks have inquired about the "heel-ing" progress. Stephen's doctor has predicted he will need a special shoe with a brace on his left leg for the rest of his life. For now, he still wears a boot to enable him to be mobile, but at the end of the day, once that boot is off, he still has to crawl on his hands and knees. However, the doctor is astounded at the amount of progress Stephen has made in such a short time. It's been eight months since his 20- foot fall when the scaffolding collapsed, but we're taking it one day at a time. We sure do appreciate your concern and prayers. _________________________________________________________ LOVE, JENNIFER I. OLIVER AND FAMILY four_ears @ msn.com "To live that in thy last long sleep, Smiles my be thine wile all around thee weep." - Nellie L. Wallace, June 24, 1873 _________________________________________________________ This E-mail may be forwarded in its entirety, but first ask the writer for permission before forwarding. Thank you for doing the decent thing! Ü ________________________________________________________ SUBMIT STORY, QUOTE, OR FAMILY LOVE MOMENT: http://www.geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001/submission.htm FEEDBACK: four_ears @ msn.com ________________________________________________________ |
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