Echoes of Memory

A Kind Gesture

On a Friday afternoon in September, I started coughing. I thought it was no big deal.

My Brother Was an Only Child

Growing Tomatoes

Remembering my childhood, specifically my second grade class in Germany, each student was allocated a small lot and instructed to plant vegetables—lettuce, radishes, beans, and tomatoes. I thought, now, why can’t I do that on my otherwise useless lot?

Guilt

My dad was a survivor of both Auschwitz and Buchenwald. After liberation, as he traveled home to Mukačevo, he left a message in every city along the way for anyone in the family who had survived.

Lessons Lost

In 1948, my father, sister, and I were sponsored by my family living in New York City and obtained visas to immigrate to the United States.

My Stepfather

“The big fight will be on the radio tonight,” my stepfather said. “We can listen. It will not be for long.” I tried to comprehend what was happening. He didn’t speak directly to me very often, and almost never about something we would do together.