His given name was Wolf. Though to his friends in the last days of his life he was affectionately known as Willie. His passing was startlingly quick. One day he was there smiling and waving to friends. The next day he was gone. As is often the case, it was only after his passing that we considered what he might have told us about his 91 years. Too late we thought of the questions we would like to have asked – a golden opportunity lost. Unfortunately, all that remains today are the memories he left with those he loved and left behind.
Wolf’s life began in Poland in 1914, the same year that gave birth to World War I. His parents lived in a city called Lodz, but soon left to open a clothing factory in some other town now forgotten by his family. Does it matter? Perhaps not. Their stay there was not long. The government confiscated their business, left the family impoverished, and forced their return to Lodz. Today, we are left only with speculation -- it may not have been a good thing at that time to be Jewish in Poland.
Over the next decade or so, Wolf learned the garment business from his dad. To help support the family, from the age of 12 he attended school only for half- days and then left to work for his father making clothes. Soon, however, the winds of war again began to stir in Europe and the little time he had been afforded for his youth came to an abrupt end. In 1937, the social unrest festering in Germany soon spread to Poland and ultimately exploded in Lodz itself. A pogrom commenced that lasted three days. As Jews throughout the city were attacked without mercy, interestingly the memory that most indelibly impressed Wolf was his absolute disbelief at the police who, though present, stood by with a complicit indifference, doing nothing to either protect or rescue any of his family and friends. Wolf experienced first hand the ugliness mankind is capable of when they irrationally choose to hate others solely on the basis of a difference only they perceive. Sadly, however, for Wolf that experience would not be his last.
In 1939 the Germans attacked Poland and all men between 18 and 55 were ordered to Warsaw to defend the country. Since transportation was not provided, Wolf and his friends started the three day journey by foot. A walk he would never forget. German planes attacked them continuously with machine gun fire, and Wolf at one point was blown unconscious into a ditch. When he awoke all those who had been with him now surrounded him in death except one -- Wolf’s friend who managed to escape and return to Lodz only to report to Wolf’s dad his belief that Wolf was dead – a blow that Wolf remembered his dad never recovered from even though he learned only a few weeks later that Wolf was alive.
After arriving in Warsaw Wolf, along with the rest of Poland, was soon captured by the Germans, and he found himself in a work camp. Unbearable humiliation was the order of each day, and Wolf quickly found a way to escape. By then, however, the Germans had imposed a 5:00 p.m. curfew throughout Poland, and anyone found in violation was to be summarily shot and killed. Wolf was thus overjoyed to find there existed another side of human nature – a side that was good. He found strangers he would never again see who were willing to risk not only their lives, but the lives of their entire families, in order to hide him, feed him and guide him on his perilous journey back to Lodz, only to say goodbye quickly to his family before continuing his escape to the east in the hope of reaching Russia. What Wolf did not know when he left Lodz that day, was that he never again would see his mother and father, his grandmother, his older sister, her husband and their child.
Once in Russia he again was captured, this time by the Russians who at first held him for an extended period in a small room with 80 or so others and no bathrooms. The filth and sickness nearly overwhelmed him before he was eventually relocated to a work camp comprised of captured Polish exiles. But even there he found the conditions to be equally dismal. Of the 1500 in his camp, only half survived prior to those left alive being shipped to but another assignment elsewhere. And so it went for him over the next several years. From work camp to work camp he was moved until eventually he found himself in Siberia where he was permitted to again tailor clothing for the remainder of the war. More importantly, however, it was there also that he met Rachel who had arrived in Siberia in much the same way as Wolf. In love, they soon married and remained together for the rest of Wolf’s days on this earth.
Often in life the passing of one opportunity makes room for another, and so may be the case here. If we’re lucky, perhaps it will be a renewal of the opportunity thought lost -- to learn what more we can from the experiences of men like Wolf. Perhaps Rachel will share with us how they as a couple were able to greet their friends always with a wave of their hands and warm smiles – smiles that reassured all to whom they were given that life is good – even after all that which they had been forced to endure. Wolf, may God bless you with a peaceful rest you so richly deserve.
© 2005 Clifford C. Nichols, Esq.
Cliff Nichols is an attorney practicing criminal defense/entertainment law in Santa Monica, California. He may be contacted regarding this editorial at either (310) 917-1083, cliff@cliffnicholslaw.com or www.cliffnicholslaw.com and you may join his blog at www.thedailystand.com
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