My paternal grandfather was born in Austria-Hungary in 1897. He was a Torah scribe, spending his life inking Hebrew scripture with a feathered quill. His son, my father, was born in 1930 in Vienna. In 1933, my grandfather watched in horror as Hitler became chancellor of Germany. My grandparents sold everything they owned and left Austria for Portugal.
This move likely saved my grandparents and my father. Their relatives in Austria were shipped to concentration camps and murdered by the Nazis. After the war, my grandparents sent my father to America by ship to live with a distant cousin. America was a bastion of freedom and democracy. My grandfather’s hope was that a dictatorship could never happen across the sea.
In 1983, my grandfather became ill. He slowly wasted away to 90 pounds. He went in and out of coma states, babbling incoherently. At times, he was lucid. These moments were rare. I visited him and held his hand, reading him comic strips from the Sunday Herald Examiner.
Not long before his passing, my grandfather awoke from his torpor. I was with him that day. He opened his eyes, looked up at me and smiled. He asked about school and my siblings and if I’d decided on a career yet. I was only 19 at the time. I told him I might go into the movies like my dad but wasn’t sure.
“You know about the Nazis right,” he asked. He was no longer smiling.
“Yes grandpa,” I said.
“Listen to me,” he said squeezing my hand. “No one ever thought someone like Hitler would rise in Europe. My family didn’t see him for who he was. I tried to warn them. They didn’t listen. Germany had many problems at that time. People were out of work. Many couldn’t eat and lived on the streets. Hitler promised to fix everything. He blamed the Jews for all their problems. He promised to save the country for true Germans. The people loved him because he was angry like they were. The first time I heard him speak I knew we had to leave. Austria was where he was born and I knew he’d try to take it over.”
He had a coughing fit. I gave him a sip of water and wiped his mouth with a tissue. He resumed talking.
“Hitler didn’t go after the Jews right away. First he went for the disabled, then the gays, then the Gypsies. No one stopped him. By the time he turned on the Jews, he couldn’t be stopped.”
He gently pulled me toward him.
“You need to keep your eyes open, think clearly and pray for wisdom. I hope the day never comes when someone like a Hitler takes over this country. If it ever happens, stay vigilant. Be careful of your friends and neighbors. They’ll be the ones who’ll turn you in if things go bad. Keep your own counsel and protect your family. They’re the only ones you can trust. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I told him with a smile. “Don’t worry about me.”
He died several weeks later. I didn’t think much about what he said until recently. Now his words reverberate in my head. I’ll keep my eyes open and pray for wisdom.