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In honor of my grandfather's yarzeit this week I wanted to write a few words about him. Hope this wont bore anyone, but he was a really interesting guy so hang in there. He was born in Europe, of course (which zaidy wasn't) and lived thru the Holocaust. He was one of those brave guys living in forests bombing railroad tracks to try to thwart the Nazis in their evil intents. Later he was in a forced labor camp being treated worse than e a dog along with the rest of our people. His Nazi supervisor had a good time torturing him. After the war, he tracked him down and had him brought to trial, gave witness and had him executed.
In the DP camps, people were wandering around lonely and lost. He got married to my grandmother. There was a group of about 15 single girls who had lost all their families, they wanted to get married just so they could have someone, some family. He got hold of transportation and found his way to another DP camp. Came back with 15 young eligible men and proceeded to match them up, making 15 shiduchim. He and his wife wanted to get to America very badly, they were on line for passage on a ship. When finally it was their turn, they were turned away. The officials noticed that my grandmother was 7 months pregnant and did not want her aboard - they did not have facilities for her. They were told to wait until after the birth of the baby. They were bitterly disappointed - they wanted their baby to be born on American soil. Finally, months later, they did get on the ship, and en route the baby had a high fever. My grandmother was terrified - fever on a baby was really dangerous. The ship's doctor told her not to worry - there is a new type of medication called penicilin that will help. It was the new miracle drug that saved my mother as a baby...
My grandfather came here as an immigrant with nothing but a wife and baby. He managed to work his way up the the point where he had his own business and was quite well to do, an amazing feat I think in a place where he couldnt even speak the language. (There was no "Press 2 for Hungarian") I cant imagine going to Hungary and learning the language and starting my own company...He learned it quite well. Later years he used to listen to Bob Grant and laugh and say "Dis guy is great!"
As a grandfather, he was the best. When he came to visit, he always had two huge bags -one of bakery goods and one full of candy. His birthday, chanuka and afikoman presents were always the stuff your parents would never buy you...He loved to joke around with us, and he thought we were the greatest!
When he suffered a stroke, he fought and fought to regain his strength. I was once walking with him in Boro Park, and we passed an old guy. He said good shabos to the old guy and then told me "I always try to say good shabbos to the old people." I thought it was so funny cuz he was himself an old guy but he didnt see himself that way. Sadly, passed away from a stroke later, but he was still too young. We miss him. This little post skips over so many important things... My son who is twelve years old is named after him, and I sometimes think that my grandfather is up there looking down and getting a real kick out of him, because he is so funny and such a wiseguy.