Echoes of Memory

A Blissful Event

The year was 1963, and I was serving in the Israeli air force. I worked as a programmer on that famous huge Philco computer that filled a whole floor.

Where I Feel Best

After I survived the Holocaust in Poland, my mother, father, sister, and I moved to England, where we were generously accepted as we tried to move past the terrible years of World War II. We were among the few lucky ones who survived. So many did not. According to statistics, only about 2 percent of Polish Jews lived through the Holocaust.

The Klikk

After almost a year’s absence from my hometown of Miskolc, I arrived in Budapest with Shosha, my sister, and Rozalia, my mother. We stayed at the home of my aunt, Bozsi, and her daughter, Magda. My uncle, Moka, Bozsi’s husband, unfortunately did not return from forced labor.

The Choices We Make, Part I

There have been many moments in my adult life when I have had to make a decision. Sometimes, I had to choose one option from a list of many. Sometimes, I had only two bad options. And, rarely, I had two good ones.

My Journey to America

Once, when I was a very young girl in Poland, I got lost walking with my aunt in the forest. “Are we in America?” I asked her. America was the farthest place on earth for a child my age.

What is America?

My mind was in turmoil. From one day to the next, I was whisked away from my happy, carefree life as a 10-year-old in Thorpe, England, to a large ship, on my way to America.

The Power of Trust and Faith

To Share

When I returned from the deportation to Miskolc in 1945, my uncle Gabor Zoltan was already back home. He had survived years in a forced labor camp.

Becoming Who I Am

My mother’s oft-repeated axiom to me was, “Remember the good, forget the bad.” Undoubtedly, that is how she willed herself to move on with life after the Nazis robbed her of a husband and two daughters.