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July 13, 2018

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HERITAGE FLORIDA JEWISH NEWS, JULY 13, 2018 PAGE 15A From page 1A ran a Red Light District and she would buy high-style clothes from New York every season--fur coats, grey flan- nel suits. I mean they were drop-dead-call-out-the-cops gorgeous these clothes," Har- riett unabashedly shared with a laugh. Harriett loved clothes, but she also had a strong core. In 1943 she enlisted in the Marines and was stationed as a payroll clerk in California. After her enlistment, she moved to Florida, where she met Hy on the steps of a synagogue in Miami Beach. "I moved to Miami in 1948 searching for a husband," she said jokingly to this writer years ago. "I found him. He was so poor I almost didn't marry him." Hy and Harriett married in 1950 and moved into a single-room efficiency. Their financial picture soon improved, though, as Hy bought and sold land throughout Florida. His first big sale was a tract off Tur- key Lake Road in south Or- lando that Harriett deemed a "hopeless swamp." Martin Marietta paid $1 million for the property, now part of the Lockheed Martin site. In 1962, Harriett and Hy moved to Orlando with their children, Michael and Shel- ley, who survive her. "You just never know what tomorrow will bring. Life's an adventure," she said at that time. That was Harriett Lake-- always approachable, al- ways charitable, kind, and dressed to the nines. She often came to the Heritage on Fridays dressed fashion- ably head to toe to pick up her copy of the Heritage. Always stopping to say hello to Jeff Gaeser, publisher, and the staff. Now the Lake's name will always be remembered in the Harriett & Hymen Lake Cultural Auditorium at The Roth Family JCC in Maitland; in the Harriett Performance Hall at Mad Cow Theatre in downtown Orlando; in the Harriett Lake Costume Shop at the University of Central Florida; and at Harriett's Bar, at the Lowndes Shakespeare Center. Funeral arrangements are entrusted to Beth Shalom Memorial Chapel. From page 5A in New York in the 1940s and 50s. Jews, from the time of the first post-Civil War election until 1932 traditionally voted Republican or even Socialist rather than for the party identified in large parts of the country until the 1960s with Sunday "blue laws," discrimi- nation against blacks, and segregation. I knew this from my father's own experience. Even as late as 1948, Ameri- can Jewswere still sufficiently sober and proud to give a deserved slap in the face to the Democrats in the run up to the presidential election of 1948 in spite of their idealiza- tion of FDR. By early 1948, Truman had been cowed by his State Department advisers to abandon the partition pro- posal for Palestine and were preparing to announce that U.S. preferred "international trusteeship"- meaning no Jewish state. White House adviser Max Lowenthal urgently warned Truman that if a Jewish state were proclaimed without U.S. recognition, Republicans, the left leaning American Labor Party and the newly formed leftwing Progressive Party under former Vice President Henry Wallace would lead a chorus of protests and capture the Jewish vote. The admin- istration would pay a high political price in Jewish votes for it is especially important in the upcoming presidential election. Truman received crucial phone calls from Bronx Democratic leader Ed Flynn and former New York governor Herbert Lehman, warning about the electoral repercussions in New York if he abandoned the Jews. A Congressional vote in the Bronx had already unseated a veteran Jewish Democrat to fill a vacant seat and Truman realized he had to make good on his original pledge of parti- tion and recognition of Israel. Under Democrat President Wilson, with his dismissal of blacks from federal jobs, apathy to lynching, restric- tive immigration policy, attendance at a special fes- tive showing of the racist film "Birth of a Nation" in the White House, sympathy for the Ku Klux Klan and promotion of the notorious sedition laws ('red scares') in which thousands of East European and Jewish im- migrants were deported and imprisoned for their stand against American entry into the war, caused a revulsion among Jewish voters. In 1920, they threw out two Democrat Jewish congress- men and elected 10 Repub- licans and two Socialists to Congress. This information that no ethnic vote is cast in stone hasn't yet been absorbed by Jewish dinosaurs who can swallow any insult and pro- claim that black is white, in- suiting Israel's elected leader or that Jewish values mean same-sex marriage and un- limited abortion as long as the democrats have proclaimed that it is "progressive." From page7A traliaalso announced itwould withhold funds from the P.A. European nations may soon do the same. The issues now relate to the implementation and enforce- ment of the laws, as well as what to do with the withheld funds. In the United States, the State Department must provide evidence that the pay- ment scheme remains in place for the funds to be withheld. According to the Taylor Force Act, that discovery process needs to begin now, some 90 days after the law's passage. According to the Israeli law, a review of the Palestin- ian budget line items and payment scherm must take place at the endof each cal- endar year. According to this provision--unless a stricter interpretation o~he law is de- manded-Israel rill continue to send the montlly payments until the start oP,019, when a presentation will be made as to whether the payments have halted or not. If not, funds can be withheld in February. Gerber, Force and the backers of the Israeli law are pushing for any funds with- held to be paid out to the victims of Palestinian terror who have secured judgements against the P.A. in court. This represents the truest form of justice: to take the funds once designated for the murderers and to provide them instead to the victims. Both the U.S. and Israeli laws represent the first ma- jor steps in holding the P.A. accountable for nearly three decades of incitement and terror financing. Israel has two men to thank for taking these legislative steps: Sander Gerber and Stuart Force. May the memory of Stuart's and Robbi's son, Taylor, be a blessing for peace and comfort to all victims of Palestinian terror. From page 10A children, their love for each other "was so strong, so intense" when the kids were growing up "that there was actually no space for anyone else between them. Not even their children," Mirjam says. But what begins as a docu- mentary about the effects of an unusual family relation- ship evolves into an explora- tion into the tragic root of the special bond between the spouses--and the tragedy's effects on at least two genera- tions of Dutch Jews. Formally, the home where the couple met was a high school called GICOL, for those whose secondary ed- ucation was interrupted because of World War II. In reality, however, it func- tioned as an orphanage for Jewish children who survived in hiding while their entire families were murdered in the Holocaust. "We had, of course, lost everyone," Meijer says in the documentary, which was produced by the Jewish pro- gramming division of the EO public broadcaster. "Almost all of us were orphans; we lost our entire families." He hid in the attic of his Amsterdam home when the Nazis took away his sister and parents; they all would be murdered. Meijer and his older brother survived the rest of the war hiding north of Amsterdam. His greatest regret in life is not being able to save his sister, as he says in the documentary. "We had no home, nothing. No one we had known was alive," he says. Tedje was 12 when her father and sister were taken to the Westerb)rk concen- tration camp, md later to Auschwitz. She vas arrested later and asked to be sent there, too. But she was sent to another camp, and from there toAuschwitz. Her mother had died before the Holocaust, when Tedje was 8. In one of the nany articles written in the nainstream media about tie film, its maker, Heleen Mnderaa, told the NRC Hand61blad daily that being alonen the world had a defining 4ect on the relationship bet, een Meijer and Tedje, whos real name is Rika. (Her fathr had nick- named her his "eddy bear," a nickname sheadopted in adulthood, intrducing her- self as Tedje.) "How they beame inter- twined is probably connected to their uprooting during the war," Minderaa says. Their apparent inability to be with- out one another "feels like a solution to their problem of not belonging anywhere anymore. They ground one another." Meijer says he used to feel the need to "offset the pain caused to his wife." But, he adds, the desire is "naive." "It's not something I could hope to do, I realize now that I am old," he says. Mirjam, the couple's daughter, sees their part- nership as a pact. "They agreed that they were moving forward and were going to make some- thing good out of it all," she says. "They promised that to one another." Meijer says of his two children: "We've tried not to pin an Auschwitz identity on them. We tried not to be like those people who always talk about the persecution, about Auschwitz." But as with many Holocaust survivors whose entire family was murdered, moving for- ward from the Holocaust has proven to be an uphill battle. "It felt like every night around the dinner table, Auschwitz was sitting with us at the table for a bite to eat," Mirjam says. Birthday par- ties featured "a five-minute talk about the weather, three minutes about food and for the rest it was the war." At least once a week, Mei- jer would note the birthday of some relative who was murdered. When Mirjam painted on her arm once, her mother asked her to stop because it made her "uncomfortable." It reminded her of the tattoo of a number that the Nazis gave her at Auschwitz. Ruben, the couple's son, became a rabbi but moved to Zurich. "In Dutch Jewry there's a constant preoccupation with the Holocaust that I found suffocating and needed to get away from. Synagogues weren't destroyed the same way there," he says of Swit- zerland, which the Germans did not occupy. "It feels more comfortable." Back in Amsterdam, Meij er and Tedje give talks at school about the Holocaust. "It's not a happy story I'm about to tell you," Meijer tells the students in his introduc- tion. "But it does have a happy end. We're the happy end." From page 12A whose diary became one of the world's best-known testi- monials from the Holocaust, may have been betrayed with her family. In that atmosphere, it was imperative that a baby born at a resistance safe house, like Miriam Dubi-Gazan, have papers. Anyone caught with an undocumented baby risked a Gestapo interroga- tion that was liable not only to end with the dispatch to Auschwitz of the baby and her parents, but to the exposure of the resistance cell that hid them, she explained. This made Simon Dekker, the Nazi brother of a resis- tance fighter, the perfect person to register as the Jew- ish baby's father. He would be above suspicion, Dubi-Gazan said. Last year, Dubi-Gazan returned to the cellar where she was born on Jan Luijken Street, around the corner from the Van Gogh Museum, with a film crew from the Israel Broadcasting Corp. Before going there, she met with Henk and Wisje Dekker, Simon and Ewert's nonage- narian siblings. Ewert, her rescuer, died a few years ago, she learned. As did Simon, a former high school teacher who imme- diately after World War II left the Netherlands amid the authorities' sweep to catch and punish Nazi col- laborators. In the half-light of an over- cast morning, Dubi-Gazan stood in the cellar where her mother gave birth to her in anguished silence, lacking any medical assistance and attended by Miriam's older brother, who then was 18 months old. Two months before Miriam was born, her mother nar- rowly escaped a raid after a pro-Nazi milkmn reported the family to tht police, she said. As the Nazi banged on the front door, Miiam's highly pregnant motherumpedwith her son over a felce to disap- pear in the mazt of gardens that was the buiding's inte- rior yard. "I can't believe my mother lived through all of that," Dubi-Gazan said in the room, visibly moved. But after a few minutes she was ready to leave. "I want to get out of here. Let's go, this is enough now," she said as she climbed up from the cellar. After the Holocaust, her traumatized mother had deep emotional issues, Dubi-Gazan said. "We couldn't ride on the train growing up--because the trains all went to Aus- chwitz," she told JTA. Living with the trauma of the Holocaust, Dubi-Gazan said she knew she wanted to leave for Israel when she was 5 years old. She attended the Rosj Pina Jewish School in Amsterdam in one of the first classes opened after the Holocaust. Her class had only seven stu- dents-all of them child sur- vivors of the 140,000-member Jewish community that lived in the Netherlands before the war. Today's Dutch Jewish community, estimated at 45,000, is heavily con- centrated in Amsterdam, where it has several cultural centers and synagogues, as well as an elementary and secondary school. But it has failed to replenish its num- bers. Outside Amsterdam, once-prominent synagogues dot the Netherlands, only several of them still func- tioning as such. In the southern city of Middelburg, non-Jewish volunteers show the local synagogue to visitors once a week. Up north in Groningen, the synagogue is a museum with a souvenir shop selling wine and kosher products from Israel. And in Deventer in the east, a 207-year-old synagogue is being turned into a restaurant following its sale to a Dutch-Turkish entrepreneur. "I grew up with a lot of anger toward the Dutch," said Dubi-Gazan, who has two daughters. "I wasn't raised to think of this place as home." But with time, she said, her attitude softened. She recently honored the Dekker family ("the good side, that is," she said) by planting a tree in their honor in Israel. "It's true that many col- laborated. But many non-Jews also suffered, some for helping Jews," she said. "They went to concentration and labor camps and their children, I've come to discover, were scarred by that experience as deeply as I was." Custom Printing Invitations & Announcements Digital & Offset Printing Brochures & Booklets Direct Mail Services Forms & Letterheads Envelopes Business Cards 205 North Street Longwood, FL 3275o ~, Bnng in this ad and receive 18,% Discount