From Europe to America

The girl I waited for at the railroad station in October 1945 was worth waiting for. I learned that her name was Helen Gedajlovic, and after a short courtship, our wedding was set for March 24, 1946. As promised, I gave up my black marketeering and seriously considered entering a new field suitable for my character. I was looking for something that would demand as little work as possible, now that I was used to a life of leisure.

There were great opportunities available to me in almost any business or enterprise, if I decided to become a "narodni spravce", a national manager, of any of a thousand stores, workshops, factories, and so forth, confiscated from the German population. In many cases, this would afford me no problems. Most managers, for the time being, kept the former German owners, the "gray eminence" of the enterprise with the spravce acting as the boss only outwardly.

I could have chosen from many different sections of the economy, including a small lumber mill right in Jablonec. The problem with this type of arrangement was that it was not really suitable for my character. As in all practicality, it was no more than a paid position, with the salary determined by the government, in accordance with the profitability. Of course, there were limitless opportunities for extra deals, resulting subsequently in arrest and stiff monetary fines and even jail terms. This was not for me.

To fill my time while searching for what I did not know myself, I took a government position as a liquidator of those German enterprises that the authorities deemed superfluous. This was a one-man job and I was very efficient at it. I sold the assets mostly to my many Jewish friends or their relatives, satisfying all three parties in the process, the seller, the buyer and myself.

I liquidated three to four yard goods stores, finding very little merchandise in the stores themselves. The government commission gave me an inventory with estimated prices they wanted. For the most part, this was quite correct. By checking the records and interrogating one owner and his relatives, we found large hidden inventories, bringing in many times the estimated amounts of the commission. But this position was only temporary, and I kept my eyes open for something more permanent.

Help came from an unexpected source. A man named Otto Fischl came to our place to inquire about me. He left his address, phone number and a message that I get in touch with him, as he was a good friend of my father's. It was then, after meeting him, that I decided to go into the same business as my father, which was the export of costume jewelry and hand-cut crystalware. I had but a faint idea of how such a beast works, where to get what, what to get where, and where to sell it.

Otto was willing to help me. He was an experienced man and with his assured help, I began to look around for a location for my business. In the house where we lived, I could no longer get permission to run a commercial enterprise. Further complications involved getting a license. New licenses were not being issued as there were plenty of German export businesses to be had by managerial arrangement only. This was not what I was after. I would settle for no less than being the sole proprietor of my own business. With the help of many friends with important positions in various departments, I received permission to conduct business on my father's license.

There was an even more pressing problem which needed my attention, before our wedding. My number of tenants increased to five, with the addition of Ernest, who had been discharged from the army. I was sharing my room with him. That was fine for now, but with our wedding coming up, I did not intend to sleep with Ernest. Day after day, the poor guy kept going to the rental board, only to return without any results. He did not ask me for help and I had not volunteered to help. But something had to be done, so I offered my services. He was proud. He was not willing to surrender his rights to the privileged treatment due him as a veteran, but he finally accepted my offer. In three days, I had a suitable apartment for all of them. They all moved out, including my intended bride, who on the 24th of March 1946, returned, alone.

By the beginning of October, my export business was operational. With the help of Otto, I learned what to look for and what to contract out to be manufactured. Otto even brought me my first foreign customers. In time, my father's old customers returned and I prospered far beyond my wildest dreams. In 1948, from January to March, we had a turnover of several million Kcs., all in foreign currency. Of course, I received payment only in Czech currency. In three months, I had already matched my turnover for all of 1947!

Rezsi my sister-in-law, expressed a desire to move to the U.S. She had a cousin in New York who readily sent her an affidavit. To register with the U.S. Consulate, a valid passport was required. If Rezsi was going to the U.S., then Helen and her sister, Yolan, also wished to follow. They all wanted to be together. My wife, Helen would not be happy to stay in Jablonec without her sisters. It seemed to me, at times, that I married three sisters, instead of Helen alone. Fanny and Ernest, on the other hand, had a brother, Nathan. Nathan, his wife Sara, and their two children were living in Canada Fanny and Ernest had their sights set on that country. As soon as immigration to Canada opened up, Nathan sent them the necessary forms to fill out.

To get a passport, one needed certain personal papers, especially a birth certificate. Yolan was the only one that had the common sense to get one when she was in Bilky in 1945. All the others had zilch - nothing. Yolan's certificate was written in Russian and needed translation by an officially sworn-in translator. The official translator's office was in City Hall. I prepared the translation and brought it to the translator for certification. He did not even glance at the original. He stamped and signed the translated certificate as being an exact and correct translation from the Russian language into that of Czech.

Next, I made similar translations for all the girls and Ernest. Just as I did the first time, I presented the translated papers to the official. He never even looked at Yolan's original, which I showed him. The certificates were all the same, except instead of Yolan's name and dates, they now bore the names and dates of her sisters and cousins. After that, anybody approaching me from Carpathia, who did not have a birth certificate, received one, free of charge, compliments of a friendly translator, me!

As already mentioned in Chapter 5, Helen and I received our papers from Mr. Sydney Schneider, Ray's husband. We registered with the U.S. Consulate, even though I had no immediate intention of leaving Czechoslovakia The trend was to move from Europe as quickly as possible. The survivors, who were for the most part displaced from their original homes, were eager to be reunited with family again. If this meant moving, so be it. The Czechoslovakian Jews did not have to leave for economic reasons, because they could make a decent living right there. However, the family was now more important than a comfortable life. I shared this sentiment, but was not in a great rush to emigrate. While others were anxiously waiting to get their visas, I was in no such hurry. The urgency came only in 1948, as a result of political changes, which one probably should have foreseen. On the other hand, most of us did not believe that another Munich would be allowed to happen. Those who thought so, including me, were wrong.

In 1945, a provisional government was established with each of the four political parties having an equal share of Ministers in the government. Parliamentary elections were scheduled for May 1946. The Communist party was now very popular for two reasons. The first and a very compeLling one was the abandonment of Czechoslovakia by the western powers, leading to Munich and later ending the whole existence of a free and independent nation. The second reason, having influence on the population of Czechoslovakia was the liberation of the Republic by the Red Army. No wonder then that the sentiment was ripe for the Communist party to prosper. The general public was not aware at that time of the negotiations at Yalta That's where the Russians, with Stalin and Molotov at the table, were able to outsmart Messrs. Roosevelt and Churchill by insisting that they be the liberators of Prague. Very few knew that the American Army reached Pilzen and could have liberated Prague sooner than the Russians did. In fact, the Czechoslovak Western Army rushed to Prague in order to help the Czech people who fought the retreating German Army. They reached the outskirts of Prague, but were ordered to return to Pilzen immediately. Stalin knew what he was doing.

In the 1946 elections, the Communists captured 42% of the popular vote, but unable to govern by itself, again formed a coalition. They were generous in the number of cabinet posts they gave to other parties. Of course, the Communists kept the Ministry of Interior, with its control of the police, Ministry of Defense, with its control of the Army, Ministry of Industry, Ministry of Agriculture and Ministry of Propaganda with its control of radio and the press, and the traditional post of Prime Minister, always going to the party with the largest vote. This had no immediate benefits, but they knew what they were doing.

Even so, their support, so strong in 1946, when they proudly proclaimed on billboards the signing of the 1,000,000th party member, started declining. The first Parliament was elected for only two years, instead of the normal five-year period in the hope that the Communists could gain a majority by the next election. The other parties gladly accommodated this arrangement, hoping that they also had a lot to gain when the popularity of the Communist party would start to lose steam.

It never came to any elections to be held in May of 1948.

The Communist party membership defections reached avalanche proportions. No billboard advertisements appeared this time. Faced with certain loss, the Communist party now introduced laws unacceptable to the other parties. The demands for certain additional powers kept mounting, with the opposition refusing to accept any of the changes demanded by the Communists. Prime Minister Gottwald then walked out with all his political party colleagues.

President Benes was presented with a choice. He'd have to accept a government which Gottwald would present him, or face a revolution. Benes could clearly see what the results would be with the police, military and Russians all against him. He resisted for a short while but eventually gave in. During the week of indecision, the Communist party called on their members to assemble at Vaclavske namesti ("Wenceslas Square") and voice their support for Gottwald. Over 200,000 faithful followers answered the call. When the three opposition parties foolishly guided by false hopes did the same thing, a mere 10,000 showed up. A new government was installed and the "cleansing" began immediately, effecting every phase of life.

I already knew what to expect. I had met friends fleeing the Communist regime from Carpathia and Hungary. I did not hesitate for a minute. We had to come up with an escape plan. Rezsi was no longer my responsibility as she married a very nice man whose family I knew from my other home, Volove. Her husband, Miklos Kirschenbaum from Dolha, decided to stay put for a while and wait for their visas from the U.S.A.

Fanny and her brother, Ernest, were just in the process of leaving. In fact, they had all their papers and visas ready. They were just waiting for the proper time to leave for Ostende, Belgium, from where they would sail. My problem was Yolan, who decided to come along with Helen and me. She was told of all the hardships she would have to go through and she was made well aware of all the dangers involved. Things progressed rapidly now. For starters, you now needed an exit visa as well as a passport, in order to leave the country. Ernest and Fanny would have no problems with that. They were already cleared for immigration and since they didn't have any political affiliations nor any positions of trust or importance, they would encounter no difficulties.

For me, it was different. For one thing, I only received a two year postponement from the Army and was still expected to undergo my basic training for a minimal time of three months. I was issued a passport for only one year, and this document was no longer valid. No deferment could be expected. The passport was originally issued to my wife and me. In Czechoslovakia, a husband and wife receive only one passport with pictures showing both. As I was involved in exporting goods to foreign countries, our passport was meant for business trips only. We needed a passport to register our affidavit with the U.S. Consulate. Without one, no registration was possible.

Through my friends in Prague, I found someone who knew how to get across the borders. The German and Austrian side were patrolled very closely, with the military taking up position along the entire length of the border. I believe the Communists were not sure how the Americans and British who had a formidable force in Germany - would react. Their fears were groundless. The only routes open to us would be through Hungary, a Communist country, and then Austria and Belgium, where I had some very good customers who could help us. As it turned out, my plan worked almost perfectly.

Everything was arranged for a certain date. I would leave for Prague with one suitcase, so as not to arouse any suspicion if anybody saw me leave. Helen would follow two days later with Yolan. They would travel by car with Otto Fischl driving. Otto would also take some of our possessions, packed in wooden crates, to look like merchandise going overseas, and then store them in his large house. All bookkeeping, for the entire operation of my business, would be packed in cartons and burned in the huge ovens at Otto's factory. I would have liked to save one of our very large and expensive Persian rugs that Otto was willing to actually use in his house. But it was a problem transporting it. It required six people to carry it to a truck. Trying not to arouse suspicion, I asked some of my other tenants if they would help me carry it as I had to send it to the cleaners. In that way, I prepared them well ahead of my departure time. The operation went smoothly. They all fell for it.

We were now only a week from undertaking the final departure from our home and land, when a small hitch developed. On Sunday, Helen and I, followed our usual routine and went to see our team play football. It was a tradition for us, having season tickets and traveling together with the team even to out of town matches. On this occasion, Mr. Hajek, head of the industrial section of our city, approached me and gave me a written invitation to attend a meeting on Tuesday. I was to be sworn in as section manager of a division of export enterprises now being nationalized and combined into only three divisions. It meant my own business would fall into one of the newly created super-enterprises. It meant a good starting position, but at the slightest dissatisfaction from some higher up, it would mean a certain long vacation in one of the penal institutions. Once sworn in, it would be impossible for me to move without permission. I had to act fast and disappear immediately. I could hardly wait for the football game to be over. We went straight to Otto's from there, and told him about this new development. The same evening, he took me to Prague and was willing to rearrange all the previously approved plans and advance them to Tuesday. He was to pick up Helen and Yolan in the late afternoon and drive them to Prague, where they would be arriving late that night.

It all went as planned. No suspicion was aroused. We said "goodbye" to Otto and his wife, Vlasta, who came along to say "goodbye" to me, and to keep her husband company on his return trip. In the meantime, I moved the actual border crossing forward, so that everything was prepared for Thursday night. We boarded the train for a ride to last twenty-four hours, arriving at Kralovsky Chlumec on the appointed day at about 7:00 p.m. Our guide was waiting for us with one helper, as arranged, to help carry our suitcases across the border, where we would stay at a farmhouse until the train to Budapest the next day.

Stepping off the train, we were promptly arrested by the border guards and taken in for interrogation. They did not suspect us of trying to cross the border. It would not have made any sense to them to flee from one Communist country into another. Of course, we did not know this. They suspected us of smuggling goods to Hungary.

They went through all our luggage and found no contraband. However, Helen and Yolan had brand new shoes, never worn, and for some reason they became suspicious. It took some explaining to convince them that it was before Passover, and it was a tradition to wear new clothing and shoes on that occasion. I was told of a Jewish family living in town, and when he asked us where we were going I had a ready answer. I was just thinking what would have happened if he took me there. I was prepared to embrace this strange poor Jewish man and yell in a loud voice, "Hello, Uncle, how are you? Glad to see you," and so on, but it never came to that. The border guards believed us and let us go.

The helper chickened out after our release and refused to carry the suitcases across the border, some distance away, and so we were left physically short-handed. Speed was very important and it was absolutely out of the question to be overloaded. This could slow us down and endanger our whole crossing. Our guide made the decision. I was to hide with two large suitcases in the nearby bushes, not more than 100 meters from the border police station, while Helen and Yolan would go to the Hungarian side with him. There was no time to think, and they left.

The dogs were barking something terrible. I was afraid some guard would get suspicious because of the barking and investigate. I am afraid of large dogs, and one could hardly imagine how frightened I was. Once I thought I saw a shadow of a dog, I did not dare to move. It did not take our guide very long, but to me it seemed like an eternity. He finally showed up. We each grabbed one suitcase and, to my astonishment, we passed practically under the windows of the border police station. I could see some guards sitting at a table, probably drinking. I was really surprised that while waiting in the bushes after the two girls had left, that my pants were still dry. I was ready to follow in the general direction they had gone without the suitcases! But it was all worth it. Never before, nor ever since, have I received such a welcome from both my wife and Yolan as I did then and there. It was a scene of which famous movies are made. Clark Gable, Robert Taylor and all the other movie idols never received such a welcome!

We got to Budapest without any more problems and had to plan our next move. We could not go to a hoteL as we could not fill out a registration form without a passport or a Hungarian identity card. We were somewhat prepared for that. Ernest's brother, Moshe, the one who left for Russia in 1940, just recently returned from Budapest, where he and his wife, Dora, stayed with a Hungarian family for a few days. We found the couple's address and called them. They were willing to take us in on the condition that we would register with the police the next day. We had no choice and promised. We were taken care of for the night. Tomorrow would be another day. Leaving the house, our landlady told us not to forget to report to the police and bring her a copy of the registration. Again we promised. The three of us walked out toward the Rakoczi Korut, where there were a number of famous coffee shops during my time and which I hoped would still be there. They were. I was sure to find some of the many friends I knew, who lived in Budapest. Not even remotely did I think of my cousin, Big Hedi. When God is willing to help, He can do so in a dramatic way. Who should come along on the same side of the street, with hundreds of people walking on both sides of this famous thoroughfare, who else but my very good friend Mende Stern. My problems concerning our lodging were over. Mende was about the best information center one could ever wish for. He knew everything and everybody. There was no question I could ask that he could not quickly answer.

A good friend of mine was now Vice-Consul in the Czechoslovak embassy in Budapest. He was one of the reasons I opted to go through Budapest. I needed an extension of our passports. I myself did not dare to go there, so I asked Mende to go over and arrange a meeting. It was done. My friend was very helpful and told me right then and there: "Tibi, I will do for you what I would only do for my own brother. I will extend the due date on your passports. I will give it a non-existent number and sign with a non existent name. Everything else will be original. If for some reason someone gets suspicious and phones the Consulate to confirm your passport, I will deny the whole thing. You must understand that it will be out of my hands and I would not be able to help you". I understood his position.

Next, Mende informed me there was a Music Festival in Salzburg, Austria. We could obtain a visa. There was also a Trade Show in Brussels. We could obtain a visa there, too. But first, I had to arrange for an entry stamp on our passports. How could I exit when we officially never entered? It was solved through an old friend of my father's. Mende knew about him, too. He was a former lawyer in Chust, now holding the high position of First Secretary to the Foreign Minister. I looked him up. At first, I had a problem getting through to him. His secretary was not willing to let me speak to him and refused to promise quick action regarding my message. However, he did come through and left a phone message at Mende's house. We saw him the next day. He listened to me very attentively. He told me to get my visas to Belgium first, and then a transit visa to Austria. He would, by then, have all the formalities prepared for me. I did not know what formalities he had in mind, but I did as I was told. With no difficulty, I got a visa for all of us to Belgium, and transit visas through Austria and Germany.

When I returned to my father's friend, Dr. Elias, he told me everything was ready. He put a big stamp on our passports, signed and impressed the official seal. He told me he had to make a special stamp for us. I was wondering why, but did not ask. We thanked him and left. When we looked at our passports, we could now understand why he had to make a special stamp. It read: "I hereby order the bearer of this passport to leave the country within forty-eight hours." We left the same day.

Before we left Budapest, we thanked Mende for all he had done for us. He was married to his childhood sweetheart from Chust, Gyangyi Weiss and she had just given birth to their only child, a girl they named Hedi. His mother, who knew our family well also lived with them. She came to me and said, "I know your wife from the camp. We were together there all the time and she helped me on many occasions. She is one in ten thousand."

Arriving at the Austro-Hungarian border, the border police inspected our passports, paying special attention to the newly stamped page from his Ministry. He took the passports, and left the train. Let nobody ask us how we felt. He returned smiling and said, "I have been in the service over twenty years and have never seen such a stamp from our Ministry. I had to make sure it was authentic." I was glad he only checked that part of the document.

We arrived in Vienna and stayed in a hotel in the American Zone of the city. Vienna had been divided like Berlin, into four zones, one for each of the occupying powers. The next day we boarded the famous Arlberg Express, also known as the Orient Express, for our final destination - Brussels. We were now traveling in the Russian Zone and there would be a Russian border inspection on the east side of the bridge leading to Graz, the other side being the American Zone. As the train stopped, the Russians boarded the train and inspected everybody's identification. Since we had a Czechoslovak passport without an exit visa, it caused us some anxious moments. We were sitting in a compartment with five other travelers, all of whom spoke German and who had musical instruments on the luggage racks. I forgot all about the Music Festival in Salzburg. When the Russians inspected our compartment, I let our fellow passengers show their papers first. They all said they were musicians and were going to Salzburg. When the Russian inspected our papers, he asked me, "Are you also going to Salzburg?" I nodded. We passed inspection. On the outside we could see a number of people taken off the train. The remainder of our trip was uneventful by comparison. We arrived in Brussels and stayed a few days at the home of our former customers, Mr. and Mrs. Reich. They were very nice and helpful. We rented a good apartment for $100 a month, all furnished. It had a large bedroom, and an even larger living-dining room and a good-sized kitchen. Helen was already four-and-a-half months pregnant and it was important to attend a clinic on a regular basis, which she did.

Our daughter was born on the 17th of August 1948. She was a beautiful baby girl. Right from the first day, the nurses were able to comb her hair into one large curl. She was admired by the whole ward. We named her Eleanor.

After her birth, I now had a little time to visit my Uncle œLaci in Munich. He had rented a room and when I walked in at about 11:00 a.m., he was still sleeping. You can imagine how busy he was! I bought good material in Brussels and had a nice winter coat made by a local German tailor. It was the best one I had in many years.

I now had my registration transferred from the Consulate in Prague to the U.S. Mission in Munich. Laci told me I would be able to get a visa much faster that way. Returning to Brussels, I found everything in order. Our daughter was growing like a weed and developing into a terrific baby.

The Belgians were very strict about granting permission to stay in their country. I know of many cases of people being transported to the German border and put across. It was not the greatest tragedy as life was not in peril. There were dozens of so called DP (Displaced Persons) camps where one could live. If money was available, one could live privately as my uncle and many others did. We would have preferred to stay where we were and await our visas there. I therefore tried to get permission to stay in Brussels. Initially, a three month stay was allowed, but in too many cases, before the three months were up, mostly at night, the police came with a so-called "Marche de Route" ("Marching Orders") and took the poor immigrants to the border.

I was told that there existed a Jewish Committee which was able to arrange permits for Jewish immigrants. On the appointed day, all three of us made our appearance before the secretary of a lady, a lawyer by profession, who was the head of this committee. The secretary, a young man, started questioning our claim that we were political refugees. "What did they do to you?" he asked. I told him I did not intend to wait until they did something to me. Then I would certainly not need any help from him. Our arguments went back and forth for over an hour. I finally had enough of him and said, "It seems to me that you are a Communist. Otherwise, why do you ask all these questions? You are deciding yourself whether I am a political refugee or not. Maybe you should leave this decision to the Belgians." He finally agreed to put in our application, but warned us that there could not be any guarantee that a stay would be granted. I thanked him and told him that I could see how his application would look and with his attitude, I would be better off to seek help somewhere else.

I did not know then that the committee actually had practically unlimited power. If they approved an application, it was never rejected by the Belgian government. I was told that they had free access to the Secretary of the Ministry of Interior. It was not a secret that both the President of the Committee and many of its members had a sympathetic view of the Communists. It's interesting that my former customer, Mr. Reich, was himself openly a card-carrying member of the Red Party, as they were called. I did not know this until one Sunday when I met him selling the "Flag Rouge", the official newspaper of the party. I was astonished that a rich Jew should be a Communist. He told me that he came to the conclusion that it was the only possible way to avoid anti Semitism. When all people will be equal, there will be no reason to blame the Jews for the woes of any nation. I hope he lived to see how wrong he was.

Next, I approached a very famous lawyer and told him of our dilemma. I asked for his help and even though this was not his line of work, he consented to intercede on our behalf. I could prove we would not be a burden to the government. I still had over $10,000, which was all my worldly possessions, except for the three suitcases of clothing we managed to carry across. This lawyer was a real "mensch". He charged me a minimal amount for his efforts and, when three months passed, we all received white cards, good for an indefinite stay. All we had to do was report every six months for renewal. As we were recognized as political refugees, we had to join the IRO (International Refugee Organization). Our old passports were replaced with stateless ones. It was a bad feeling not to belong anywhere. We all felt very badly about this, but there was no other way.

Being assured of a trouble free stay, I requested our documents again be transferred to the U.S. Consulate in Brussels. When our papers were received, I was notified it would take about two years for our quota to come through. This was just too long to wait. I wrote to Nathan in Montreal. By then, he had arranged to bring Ernest, Fanny and also Moshe and Dora, his wife, to Montreal. We received a letter from them in Italy. I wrote Nathan that if it was going to cost money, I would send him the required amount. It did not take very long and I received the papers from him. It cost but it was more than worth it. We had spent almost a full year in Belgium and living on cash money, with no income, was too costly. I could see my funds dwindling. We needed some money for our expenses to the U.S. or Canada and a few dollars to get started there.

Shortly after receiving the papers from Nathan, we were called to the Canadian Consulate for our medical exams. Rumor had it that the Consular physician was an anti-Semite and was also extraordinarily strict with his physical examination of applicants, rejecting many for the slightest health reason. Even the Consul himself was an anti-Semite. No wonder we were very nervous on that particular morning.

I was the first one to be called in. He told me to bring in the baby. I started to undress her but he then told me to stop. He just touched her feet and Eleanor started to giggle. She was a very ticklish baby. I took off my shirt and was examined in about two minutes. Helen was next and Yolan last. It all lasted less than fifteen minutes for all of us. The Consul just asked a few routine questions and stamped the visas, wishing us happy sailing. So ended our ordeal with the anti-Semitic doctor and Consul. Martin Rosenthal, an old friend from Chust, did not believe me when I told him we got our visas. He had to come and see for himself. Only about six months later, I sent Canadian papers to Martin and my very good friend, Harry Zicherman, then living in Paris with his wife and daughter.

We left around the 10th of April for Paris, where Harry and his family were waiting for us. We stayed in their small apartment and left for Le Havre the next day. Most immigrants received their transportation from HIAS (Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society), but we did not bother to ask for any favors. This was a mistake which I no longer regret. At the time, it was very painful for our family, but I am getting ahead of myself.

I would have liked to have stayed in New York with my Aunt Freida and Uncle Morris for two to three days, but was told by many of my friends that this would not be possible. Since I had an application for an immigration visa, no tourist permit would be granted to me. This is the law, I was told by a "know-it-all". Nevertheless, I gave it a try and took the trouble to go up to the U.S. Consulate. The Vice-Consul, a lady, listened to my broken English and without too much ado stamped the visa, allowing us to stay in the U.S.A. eight days.

We were the first ones to leave Czechoslovakia and, interestingly enough, the last ones to arrive at our intended new homes. Rezsi, and her husband, Miklos, left a few months after us, not for the U.S.A. but to the by then officially independent state of Israel, where they settled in Natanya It would take another ten years for them to finally arrive in New York and start a new life.

We were surprised at the extremely strict examination of our luggage by a U.S. Customs Officer. He spoke a few words of Jewish, pretending to be our friend, but searched our valises more like the Slovaks did in 1939. I even told him in Yiddish that I probably would be better off with a ·"·goy·"· instead of a co-religionist. This Customs Officer was the exact opposite of the Immigration Inspector who examined our papers. He was a real gentleman. We told him we had relatives in New York and would like to stay here a few days. He granted our request without delay.

Getting out of the Customs shed, we met Elvi, who introduced us to our Uncle Morris Spinrad and Aunt Freida. Their son, Harold, was also there. Hedi was only a few minutes late. She came running, poor girl, having been delayed in New York traffic. My flesh and blood Uncle Chaim, my mother's brother, did not bother to come out to greet us nor visit us at my Aunt Freida's place, where we stayed for the eight days.

I completely forgot to mention that Hedi, Elvi and my Uncle Laci, after our separation in Austria, remained in Germany and stayed there until their departure for the U.S.S. Being juveniles, they were allowed entry under a special quota, while Laci had to wait another two or three years before coming across. Their uncle in New York, Mr. Davis (Davidovits), was, by then, well-to-do and was really helpful to them.

On a Sunday morning, we boarded a train for Montreal. It was April 24, 1949, almost a year to the day since we had left Jablonec. Nathan, Fanny and Ernest waited at the old Windsor Station. They took us to their place for dinner which Sara prepared for us. After dinner, Nathan took us over to the place he had rented for us, a room with kitchen privileges. This was a novelty type of accommodation, quite common in Montreal at the time.

We had finally arrived in Canada and Helen, Eleanor and I were about to start our new lives. Yolan was staying with Nathan and Sara, having rented a room from them to be shared with Fanny.

This was to be the start of a story of hardship, devotion and occasional sorrow. A story with a happy ending, just like in the movies.