Driving Mr. George

One of the organizations I've become involved with since I began the research for my novel is the Holocaust Center of Northern California (HCNC). I volunteer for their Oral History Project (OHP), summarizing and indexing videos of testimonies so that future researchers and students can access them with ease.

Earlier this year I attended HCNC's Day of Learning, which targets high schoolers and educators. It gave me the chance to sit in on panels and hear some of the survivors speak. The lady I work with at the OHP asked if I would be willing to give one of the survivors a ride up to the event. I was nervous to meet George for some reason. I think because I am in awe of the survivors--their courage and the things they saw and faced. Needless to say, George was a remarkable man and we had an interesting conversation. He gave me a copy of his story and two little happy face finger puppets to make me smile and remind me there is always hope. He also made me think a lot about the obstacles that seem so big in my life. When we arrived in San Francisco, the weather was drizzly and miserable, but he said, "I survived Mauthausen, I can handle a little rain!"

Today I gave George a ride to the HCNC's annual Survivor Speakers Bureau and Volunteer Appreciation Lunch. It was great to talk to him again and to see that he always remains positive, despite age, physical limitations and the recent loss of hearing in one ear. As he said, "I arrived in America with only the shirt on my back, two dollars in my pocket, and determination." His story is a constant reminder that you have to look for the best in every situation and make the most out of life.

Communicating

As I sat working in the coffeeshop today, a woman started talking to me as I wrote. It took me a moment to pull myself from my writing thoughts to notice her and what she was saying. I must have looked at her in confusion because she walked over and pointed to the chair across from me at my table. I thought she might be asking for my extra chair, but before I could answer, she grabbed the newspapers off the chair and said, "Are you using these? I guess not because you didn't even know they were there!" Still attempting to catch up with what she was saying since she didn't breathe between questions, I was really taken offguard when she continued in a singsong voice, "It's not a big deal, I'm only talking to you, just communicating," then walked away in a huff. The lady at the table next to me looked as surprised as I felt and raised her eyebrows in amusement. The woman acted as if I had been rude to her somehow, but I was merely trying to refocus my thoughts midstream.