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"If you quit, I quit", an equation used by Saudis to summarize their war on neighboring Yemen, putting aside all the slogans of determination and firmness that were enameling the Kingdom's newspapers for over 18 months. Saudis have raised the white flag, and he who declared the war on Yemen has gotten out of his box to spoke the kingdom's desire to stop it after not only the failure to achieve its goals, but also having opposite results.
Finally, Saudi foreign minister Adel al-Jubeir uttered: "We want to stop the war," Saudis tweeted after that: "We have lost."
Two days ago, Jubeir expressed his country's desire for a cease-fire in Yemen and knocked the ball in the court of Yemenis. Jubeir questioned the possibility of Yemeni commitment to the ceasefire in Yemen! Careful to abide by the cease-fire was nothing more than to ease the effect of the declaration of failure.
Since the beginning of the aggression on Yemen, Saudi ignored all the voices that came out to condemn the war and called for its cessation. The fall of more than 10 thousand people dead since the beginning of the aggression – according to United Nations estimates in late August didn't embarrass the kingdom for more than 18-month period. Finding an honorable exit was the only concern for the Saudi administration, the exit that comes at the expense of the Yemenis and their blood, which saves the face of deputy crown prince in the frantic struggle to inherit the throne of his father.
Recently, New York Times published a report about Minister Mohamad bin Salman, citing information from Saudi diplomats and princes of the royal family, in which it revealed that bin Salman's decision to go for a war on Yemen without coordinating with any of the Saudi officials, although there was a debate among them about taking an action against Yemen.
The three major security positions in the Kingdom are occupied by Defense Minister Mohamad bin Salman, Interior Minister Mohamad bin Nayef, and Minister of National Guard Mete'b bin Abdullah. Bin Salman bypassed the security positions to unilaterally take the decision of war, believing that the success of this war would secure him to inherit the throne smoothly, and would lead him to "the global stage" at an early age, according to the British daily Financial Times.
It became clear that bin Salman claimed the aggression on Yemen from the first few hours. Upon the war started, Saudi media was mentioning bin Salman's name as a "commander of Decisive Storm as he was taking photos with Saudi fighting forces here and there. Al-Arabiya TV Channel reported that the first strikes on Yemen were led by Mohamad bin Salman, but without mentioning that the Minister of National Guard Mete'b bin Abdullah was not aware of them!
Decisively, Saudi Arabia identified goals behind the war as follows:
– To restore the "legitimacy" that Saudi Arabia exclusively granted to a resigned president who does not represent the people in Yemen as far as he represents the image of Saudi influence in the country.
– To withdraw Ansarullah group from the capital Sanaa backward to Saada.
– To disarm Ansarullah.
– Not to allow any role for former President Ali Abdullah Saleh in Yemen's future.
In March 26 2015, war on Yemen was declared and strikes began on Yemeni army positions. Raids of the absurd Saudi war reached popular markets and religious and touristic places.
After less than a month of the aggression, Saudi Arabia declared another campaign budding it "Restoring Hope" in order to allegedly "resume the political process" to complete the "Decisive Storm" which ended after achieving its objectives." However, no achieved goals have been identified.
Thus what has already been achieved?
Restoring Legitimacy
After a month of the aggression on Yemen and to this day, Saudi Arabia couldn't manage to restore Abed Rabbo Mansour Hadi to Sanaa or to the surrounding provinces. The utmost achievement in this regard was reaching Eden province, the place from where he had fled before the offensive started.
Moreover, Yemenis succeeded in lining up the Higher Political Council, which gained legitimacy to lead Yemen, presided by Saleh Al Sammad, one of the most prominent Ansarullah leaders, with his deputy Qassem Mohamad Labuza, a prominent politician in the People's Congress party, which Saudi Arabia has pledged not to allow it to play any role in the future of Yemen.
Ansarullah: from Sanaa streets to the Saudi depth
Members of Ansarullah remained in Sanaa, and Saudi forces and its allies didn't succeed even in confining them within the capital. Yemeni fighters who belong to the Ansarullah, the People's Congress and other clans are still present today in Bayda' and Lahej provinces adjacent to Eden.
Expansion of Yemeni forces was not limited to the provinces only, but had reached the Saudi depth as Yemeni fighters managed to take control over the Saudi Al Khubah military position in Jizan. Yemeni troops stormed the Rabuah city in Assir, south of the kingdom. In late August, Popular Committees reached the outskirts of Najran province inside Saudi Arabia.
Ansarullah weapons: from Toshka to Borkan-1
What about the goal "to disarm Ansarullah"? … the answer is supported by the Saudi military assembly points and positions that are pounded daily by Yemeni Toshka and Borkan-1 rockets. In last July, Yemenis revealed a home-made Zelzal 3-type ballistic missile system, with a range up to 65 km. In early September, they announced the development of Borkan-1 missile system of a range up to 800 km, which was used in bombing Saudi Fahd Air Base in Taif.
Thus, if the Saudi kingdom did not succeed in achieving any of its objectives in aggression against Yemen, why did it launch "Restoring Hope" campaign? The announced goal of "resuming the political process" confirms that the second campaign that was announced 18 months ago, came to pave the way to stop the war in a way that saves an exit for Saudi Arabia out to be portrayed as a victory for bin Salman in his battle for the throne of his father … however, the exit didn't appear. Saudi long war of attrition dumped the whole kingdom into the Yemeni quagmire.
What has the kingdom achieved from the war on Yemen?
After 18 months of aggression on Yemen, Saudi media is still reticent to mention the achievements of the Kingdom in the war. However, muted Saudi media has been compensated by Saudi tweeters who commented on the recent Jubeir's declaration in which he recalled the achievements of the Kingdom in Yemen.
Mojtahed, a Saudi activist on Twitter said: "The objectives of Decisive Storm was to take Houthis out to Saada and to hand their weapons over to the legitimate power which must return back to Sanaa. But it ended up as saying: "if you quit, I quit."
What are the achievements of 'Decisive Storm'?
– Destroying Yemen's infrastructure.
– Killing thousands of innocent civilians.
– Wasting billions of national treasury.
– Reducing salaries and stopping of bounces," another tweet by Mojtahed read.
"One of the goals made by Decisive Storm was a child dying of hunger in Yemen," another Saudi activist tweeted.
"At the beginning of Decisive Storm, Jubeir was speaking like [Georges W.] Bush when he launched Operation Desert Storm. but today, he is speaking like Mahmoud Abbas in a tone of humiliation and degradation," Turki bin Mohamad, third Saudi activist tweeted, commenting on Jubeir's statements.
Even today, there is no clear official figures about the number of Saudis killed by the imposed war on Yemen, but there are figures that are being published from time to time. Four months after the start of the aggression, confidential Saudi sources revealed that the Saudi death toll reached 122 killed and about a thousand others wounded.
A New York Times report said that the Saudi toll of casualties from its war on Yemen is much more than what is declared. In late March, Mojtahed revealed that Saudi casualties from the war on Yemen reached 3500 killed soldiers and 6500 others wounded, in addition to 430 officers and soldiers missing.
What about the financial cost which affects heavily the economic deficit of the Kingdom. Six months after the aggression, the American "Foreign Policy" Journal revealed that Mohamad bin Salman's war cost the Saudi treasury $ 725 billion.
On the seventh of August, the US researcher Bruce Riedel wrote an article published by The Monitor, stating that the war on Yemen will cost Saudi Arabia too much, revealing that the kingdom was ranked third in the world last year in terms of the military budget, after the United States and China.
Riedel warned that a country with a population of 20 million people cannot continue endlessly with this huge military budget, especially amid falling of oil prices again.
Months of declaring war on Yemen, the Saudis were surprised by the deficit record of their budget ($ 98 million). This took the kingdom to a new era of "austerity" and affected the services provided to citizens, salaries and bonuses.
Along with hits received by Saudi administration day after another, the kingdom's tone toward Yemen was gradually retreating. One year after the start of the aggression, Saudi Defense Minister Ahmed Assiri declared that "Arab coalition leadership became convinced that the solution in Yemen would be political, through a pure national agreement between the legitimate authorities and the components of the political community, including the Houthis [Ansarullah]." This was the first Saudi statement of a kind.
The clearest expression of Saudi Arabia's decline came by FM Jubeir, who said in a tweet published last May: "Whether we agree or disagree with the Houthis, they still a part of the social fabric of Yemen."
Thus, the tone toward Ansarullah was turned from "rebels" and "enemies threatening the security of the kingdom" to "a part of the social fabric of Yemen." Jubeir's statement obviously expressed his country's desire for a ceasefire in Yemen.
Saudi Arabia has lost its war on Yemen. More precisely, Mohamad bin Salman has failed in the war on Yemen, which he employed in his battle for the throne. For the sake of the throne conflict between the al-Saud princes, tens of thousands of victims have lost their lives, and Yemen has been destroyed a a lot of its cultural landmarks have been ruined.
Bin Salman recruited Saudi and Arab media to incite against Yemenis, and managed to kill the conscience of millions of people who did not turn a hair before the scenes of massacres and horrible killings. However, he did not succeed in the most important battle: the battle to bring the Yemenis bowing to take him to power over their dead bodies.
Source: Al-Manar Website


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Our travel suggestions in West Crete use Chania as a starting point, but you can start from any other town in Crete. If you are staying in East Crete, you will first have to drive an extra 135 kilometres (2 hours) from Heraklion to Chania. Check the road distances in Crete (external link).
Falassarna – Chrissoskalitissa Monastery - Elafonissi (2 - 2,5 hours' drive)
Falassarna, on the west coast of Crete, offers one of the best sandy beaches on the island and stunning sunsets. Falassarna was an ancient harbour of Crete which suddenly found itself on dry land after a strong earthquake which raised the entire west side of Crete.
About 20 kilometres south of Falassarna is Chrissoskalitissa Monastery (Moni Chrissoskalitissas or Chryssoskalitissas). The monastery stands on a huge rock looking out over the Sea of Crete. It is a female monastery and its name means "Golden Step". Legend has it that one of the 90 steps leading up to the monastery is made of gold, but it is visible only to the true in faith who are pure of sin.
Continuing along the road from Chrissoskalitissa, you come to Elafonissi (Deer Island), one of the most-advertised and popular beaches in Crete. Elafonissi's fame is based on the aquamarine waters of the lagoon between the shore and the nearby islet. The water is shallow and you can walk across to the island, where you will find white and pink sand (fragments of seashell) and lots of little beaches.
There are canteens on the first beach (not on the island itself) and a few tavernas before the beach. There are also rooms for rent if you decide to stay and enjoy Elafonissi once the hundreds of day-trippers have left.
Paleochora and Sougia (2,5 hours drive)
From Chania, drive in the direction of Kissamos and at Tavronitis take the exit towards Kandanos and Paleochora. Paleochora is a pretty little town set on a small peninsula. There are beautiful beaches on both sides of the town and many more a few kilometres away. One of the best is Grammeno beach with its small holm oak wood.
From Paleochora you can go on to Sougia. There are lots of bends but the lovely route through the chestnut woods more than makes up for them. Sougia is famous for its large beach and is a favourite destination for campers.
It's about an hour's drive back to Chania. Alternatively, from Sougia you can go up to the Omalos Plateau and the entrance to the Samaria Gorge. You can then return to Chania from Omalos along a particularly beautiful mountain route.
Georgioupolis – Lake of Kournas – Springs of Argiroupolis (1,5 hours drive)
Georgioupolis is set in an estuary and its sandy beach stretches many kilometres to the east. The village lies between Chania and Rethymno, 39 km from the former and 21 km from the latter.
Very close to Georgioupolis is the Lake of Kournas, the only natural lake in Crete. On its banks are tavernas and cafes, while you can rent a pedalo on the lake.
Continue towards the village of Kournas and enjoy the view of the lake from above. In Kournas is Agapinakis' taverna with its excellent roasts, sausages and "apaki" smoked pork from his own animals. Don't forget to try his "galaktoboureko" semolina desert, too.
If you're not hungry yet, you can go on to the Springs of Argiroupolis or Kato Poros. There are many tavernas serving Cretan delicacies, set in a green landscape of running water, little waterfalls and artificial ponds. The village of Argiroupolis stands on the hill, on the site of the ancient Roman city of Lappa. It is said that the city was founded by King Agamemnon. It became powerful under the Romans, controlling the whole area from north to south. You can still see Roman mosaics and ruins in Argiroupolis today. Argiroupolis is about 27 km from Rethymnon and 50 km from Chania.
Preveli Monastery- Preveli palm-grove lake - Agia Galini (2 - 2,5 hours drive)
Preveli Monastery is on the south coast of Rethymno Prefecture, between Plakias and Agia Galini. The monastery has a long history. It played a key part in the struggles against the Turks, for which many monks paid with their lives. During the Second World War, the monks also helped New Zealand soldiers hide from the German forces of occupation after the Battle of Crete and escape to Egypt. The monastery houses a museum of icons and religious vessels, while the wonderful monastery church contains a miracle-working cross.
Near the monastery is a car park, where you can leave your car to walk down the path with its (many) steps to Preveli beach. Here is the famous palm grove in the estuary of the Kourtaliotis River. Stroll through the grove and bathe in the cold water of the river. On the beach is a canteen serving coffee, soft drinks and sandwiches.
Askyfou Plateau - Chora Sfakion - Frangocastello - Plakias (2 hours drive)
From Chania, head towards Rethymno but leave the national road at Vrysses, turning off towards Chora Sfakion. The road climbs through many bends but the mountain scenery makes up for it.
Askyfou plateau is a fertile plateau in which the village of the same name nestles. It's worth stopping here for "Sfakianes pites" - round, flat, soft cheese and honey pies. After Askyfou, the road runs downhill through many hairpin bends parallel to Imbros Gorge. The view of the Libyan Sea helps you forget the sheer cliffs below.
Chora Sfakion is the capital of the Sfakia area. This is the harbour where the people who have trekked down the Samaria gorge end up before returning to their hotels. Sfakia is considered a land of great fighters who never bowed down to the Turks. It is a mountainous region and one of the most inaccessible in Crete.
A short distance to the east is Frangocastello with its Venetian fortress, its famous shallow beach and its legends of the Drosoulites, ghostly warriors who appear in May with the morning dew.
Continuing past Frangocastello, you come to Rodakino with its pretty beaches and Plakias, a resort popular with many tourists. In Plakias you'll find tavernas, cafes and many small hotels. Plakias also boasts one of the biggest beaches in Crete. It's about half an hour's drive from Rethymno and one hour from Chania. The road back leads through the Kourtaliotiko Gorge, a particularly impressive route.
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subset: commoncrawl


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Market benchmark Sensex swayed considerably throughout the day, closing with losses today, pulled down by a rush to lock in profit towards the fag end and weak corporate earnings.
The 30-share index commenced higher on foreign funds inflows and positive global leads, but ended at 32,273.67, a loss of 51.74 points, or 0.16 %.
It had gained 87.53 points in the previous session.
The 50-share NSE Nifty settled almost flat, down by 9 points, or 0.09 %, at 10,057.40. Intra-day, it hovered between 10,088.10 and 10,046.35.
Sentiment turned weak towards the close after investors booked profits in recent gainers amid fresh losses in software exporters due to weakness in the dollar against the rupee, which traded at two-year highs, traders said.


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Hair Mineral Analysis
There are 35 metals that concern us because of occupational or residential exposure; 23 of these are the heavy elements or "heavy metals": antimony, arsenic, bismuth, cadmium, cerium, chromium, cobalt, copper, gallium, gold, iron, lead, manganese, mercury, nickel, platinum, silver, tellurium, thallium, tin, uranium, vanadium, and zinc (Glanze 1996). Interestingly, small amounts of these elements are common in our environment and diet and are actually necessary for good health, but large amounts of any of them may cause acute or chronic toxicity (poisoning).
Heavy metal toxicity can result in damaged or reduced mental and central nervous function, lower energy levels, and damage to blood composition, lungs, kidneys, liver, and other vital organs. Long-term exposure may result in slowly progressing physical, muscular, and neurological degenerative processes that mimic Alzheimer's disease, Parkinson's disease, muscular dystrophy, and multiple sclerosis. Allergies are not uncommon and repeated long-term contact with some metals or their compounds may even cause cancer (International Occupational Safety and Health Information Centre 1999).
For some heavy metals, toxic levels can be just above the background concentrations naturally found in nature. Therefore, it is important for us to inform ourselves about the heavy metals and to take protective measures against excessive exposure. In most parts of the United States, heavy metal toxicity is an uncommon medical condition; however, it is a clinically significant condition when it does occur. If unrecognized or inappropriately treated, toxicity can result in significant illness and reduced quality of life.
Hair tissue mineral analysis or HTMA is a soft tissue mineral biopsy that uses hair as the sampling tissue. A biopsy is an analysis of a body tissue. Hair is considered a soft tissue, and hence hair analysis is a soft tissue biopsy. The test measures the levels of 20 or more minerals in the hair with an accuracy of plus or minus about 3%. This is about the same level of accuracy as most blood tests, or a little better.
Toxic metals are easier to detect in the hair than in the blood. They are not found in high concentrations in the blood except right after an acute exposure. However, most tend to accumulate in the soft tissues such as the hair, as the body tries to move them to locations where they will do less damage.


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by carterstv | Mar 4, 2019 | Uncategorized
by carterstv | May 18, 2018 | Uncategorized
Dogpatch USA Documentary Film
4 months ago
The filmmakers of the Dogpatch USA documentary film are now offering their DVD exclusively at their coffee shop in downtown Eureka Springs! We also carry licensed tee shirts and map posters! Come see us! @eurekaspringscoffee at 11 North Main! ...
Share on FacebookShare on TwitterShare on Linked InShare by Email
The Dogpatch USA documentary DVD is now available. Get yours today at www.dogpatchfilm.com ...
5 months ago
We are thankful to everyone has purchased the film so far, we appreciate you and hope you are enjoying it! "Just received my dvd copy in the mail today and enjoyed it so much! Dogpatch has always had a special place in my heart. It always takes me back to my childhood and the many family vacations spent at the park. The documentary was a wonderful trip down memory lane and I thank you for that." -Allan BaldridgePurchase at www.dogpatchfilm.com ...


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- Recipe Collection
- Sweets/Desserts
- Summer Special
- Soups
- Snacks / Starters
- Side Dish for Idli/Dosa
- Savoury Snacks
- Roti/Paratha
- Rice Varieties
- Potato Recipes
- Podi/Powders
- Pickles
- Pasta / Pizza Recipes
- Paneer Dishes
- Oats Recipes
- NO Onion NO Garlic
- Mango Recipes
- Lunch Menu Series
- Lunch Box Menu
- Kuzhambu/Rasam Varieties
- Kootu / Poriyal Varieties
- Kids Bay
- Ice Creams
- Dry Sabji
- Drinks
- Dosa Corner
- Dips/Sauce
- Dals/Gravies
- Condiments
- Chutney Recipes
- Breakfast/Dinner
- Bread Recipes
- Basics
- Bachelor Friendly Recipes
- Sweets/Desserts
- Others
- Festival Specials
- Baked Goodies
- Awards
- Sundari Nathan on Eggless Christmas Cake – No Alcohol Fruit Cake
- Wendy Dixon on Eggless Christmas Cake – No Alcohol Fruit Cake
- Sundari Nathan on Phulka – How to make soft phulkas – Roti Recipe
- Sundari Nathan on Podi Idli – Fried Podi Idli
- Sreedar.V.N. on Phulka – How to make soft phulkas – Roti Recipe
how to make badam cashew burfi mymagicpan tagged posts
Badam Cashew Burfi – Kaju Badam Katli
October 20, 2019 Diwali Sweets, Sweets/Desserts No comments
Badam Cashew Burfi or Katli whatever u call it is an exotic sweet that calls for very less ghee. To be precise just a teaspoon or two. This Badam Cashew Burfi is a simple one, meaning NO SUGAR SYRUP CONSISTENCY is required making it doable even for beginners. Can be made in just 20 mins so not much kitchen time during this busy festival season. How easy is that?! I have already posted a similar recipe of Kaju Katli but with 1 string consistency. Tried this version without that and came out perfect too. Check out the video..Read More


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A trip to the quirky museum of Hunting and Nature in Paris led to this piece. The excavated grain there inspired the scoring, texturizing and wash of gold mica powder here. The box is made of white oak and has a removable sliding drawer. Both the box and the drawer are lined with a rich, caramel colored leather. The handle is inlaid brass. Sleek, modern and androgynous, this is a beautiful object and would make a memorable gift.
Price: $800
An iteration of this box is available without the leather lining or drawer and with a walnut bottom. Price: $700
In stock. For ordering and shipping information contact me via email


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|1985 Topps Traded Series Baseball Factory Set Factory Sealed 132 Card
|OLYMPIC TEAM USA Baseball 1989 Topps Traded 17-Card Team Set from Vendor Boxes
1985 Topps Traded
Topps Traded is a 132-card factory set released exclusively to Hobby outlets.
For the first time, Topps test-released Traded in pack form. Traded wax boxes appear to have been surplus 1985 Topps boxes, but with a "NEW TRADED SERIES" sticker on the panel.
5000 Tiffany sets were also produced.
Factory Sets. Hobby only.
Wax: 36 packs per box, 15 cards plus one stick of gum per pack (MSRP: $0.35)
Tiffany: 5000 Factory Sets. Hobby only.
Insertion Ratios
|Total Cards
|Numbered To
|Hobby Odds
|Retail Odds
Base Set
- 1T Don Aase
- 2T Bill Almon
- 3T Benny Ayala
- 4T Dusty Baker
- 5T George Bamberger MGR
- 6T Dale Berra
- 7T Rich Bordi
- 8T Daryl Boston XRC
- 9T Hubie Brooks
- 10T Chris Brown XRC
- 11T Tom Browning XRC
- 12T Al Bumbry
- 13T Ray Burris
- 14T Jeff Burroughs
- 15T Bill Campbell
- 16T Don Carman
- 17T Gary Carter
- 18T Bobby Castillo
- 19T Bill Caudill
- 20T Rick Cerone
- 21T Bryan Clark
- 22T Jack Clark
- 23T Pat Clements
- 24T Vince Coleman XRC
- 25T Dave Collins
- 26T Danny Darwin
- 27T Jim Davenport MGR
- 28T Jerry Davis
- 29T Brian Dayett
- 30T Ivan DeJesus
- 31T Ken Dixon
- 32T Mariano Duncan XRC
- 33T John Felske MGR
- 34T Mike Fitzgerald
- 35T Ray Fontenot
- 36T Greg Gagne XRC
- 37T Oscar Gamble
- 38T Scott Garrelts
- 39T Bob L. Gibson
- 40T Jim Gott
- 41T David Green
- 42T Alfredo Griffin
- 43T Ozzie Guillen XRC
- 44T Eddie Haas MGR
- 45T Terry Harper
- 46T Toby Harrah
- 47T Greg Harris
- 48T Ron Hassey
- 49T Rickey Henderson
- 50T Steve Henderson
- 51T George Hendrick
- 52T Joe Hesketh
- 53T Teddy Higuera XRC
- 54T Donnie Hill
- 55T Al Holland
- 56T Burt Hooton
- 57T Jay Howell
- 58T Ken Howell
- 59T LaMarr Hoyt
- 60T Tim Hulett XRC
- 61T Bob James
- 62T Steve Jeltz XRC
- 63T Cliff Johnson
- 64T Howard Johnson
- 65T Ruppert Jones
- 66T Steve Kemp
- 67T Bruce Kison
- 68T Alan Knicely
- 69T Mike LaCoss
- 70T Lee Lacy
- 71T Dave LaPoint
- 72T Gary Lavelle
- 73T Vance Law
- 74T Johnnie LeMaster
- 75T Sixto Lezcano
- 76T Tim Lollar
- 77T Fred Lynn
- 78T Billy Martin MGR
- 79T Ron Mathis
- 80T Len Matuszek
- 81T Gene Mauch MGR
- 82T Oddibe McDowell
- 83T Roger McDowell XRC
- 84T John McNamara MGR
- 85T Donnie Moore
- 86T Gene Nelson
- 87T Steve Nicosia
- 88T Al Oliver
- 89T Joe Orsulak XRC
- 90T Rob Picciolo
- 91T Chris Pittaro
- 92T Jim Presley
- 93T Rick Reuschel
- 94T Bert Roberge
- 95T Bob Rodgers MGR
- 96T Jerry Royster
- 97T Dave Rozema
- 98T Dave Rucker
- 99T Vern Ruhle
- 100T Paul Runge XRC
- 101T Mark Salas
- 102T Luis Salazar
- 103T Joe Sambito
- 104T Rick Schu
- 105T Donnie Scott
- 106T Larry Sheets XRC
- 107T Don Slaught
- 108T Roy Smalley
- 109T Lonnie Smith
- 110T Nate Snell UER (hitting stats)
- 111T Chris Speier
- 112T Mike Stenhouse
- 113T Tim Stoddard
- 114T Jim Sundberg
- 115T Bruce Sutter
- 116T Don Sutton
- 117T Kent Tekulve
- 118T Tom Tellmann
- 119T Walt Terrell
- 120T Mickey Tettleton XRC
- 121T Derrel Thomas
- 122T Rich Thompson
- 123T Alex Trevino
- 124T John Tudor
- 125T Jose Uribe
- 126T Bobby Valentine MGR
- 127T Dave Von Ohlen
- 128T U.L. Washington
- 129T Earl Weaver MGR
- 130T Ed Whitson
- 131T Herm Winningham
- 132T Checklist 1-132
Topps Tiffany
For the second year, Topps issued a special glossy set through their hobby dealers. This set is a direct parallel to the regular Topps Ttraded issue. These 132 cards are differentiated from the regular issue by their glossy fronts and very clear backs. These sets were only available through Topps' hobby dealers. According to original reports in 1985, only 5000 of these sets were produced.
Pete Rose Bronze
A Bronze metal replica, similar to the Gallery of Champions cards, of Pete Rose's Topps Traded card was given as a gift to those Hobby dealers who ordered a set number of Topps Traded cases directly from Topps. The Rose "card" measures 1 1/4" X 1 3/4".


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By: Carolina Pichardo
Despite all the research supporting the need for social interaction, it seems like most moms do less and less of this.
Whatever the reason, the benefits of a good random night with the girls works wonders! It increases happiness, improves memory and cognitive skills, extends life span and of course—brings you tons of laughter and joy.
This past week, I was able to escape and enjoy some delicious food with a couple of old colleagues. It was great to see them again and talk about our many trips abroad, nightmare encounters in the office, and figuring out the "whatever-happened to" with the other coworkers.
Once the dinner was complete and we had our last beer, we walked each other to wherever everyone was going and said our goodbyes. Of course, we agreed to do it again very soon and much more often.
However, I couldn't help but feel that it was all so fleeting and fast. I was sad thinking that getting together again wouldn't be so easy.
So this week, I challenge you not to be me and let years go on without meeting up with like-minded people. Take the time – whether an evening, day or hour on the phone – to catch up and go out with friends.
If you can't physically do it this week, then just plan it this week and get it done.
Young Urban Moms' co-founder, Carolina Pichardo, is a digital marketer by day, writer and community activist by night, and mom to Lulu always. You can reach her at firstname.lastname@example.com or on Twitter @c_pichardo.


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Over the last few months breathtaking displays of poppies have arisen in local communities across our nation. Timeless hours have been spent knitting, cutting, sticking and fastening millions of hand crafted poppies with astonishing results. An overwhelming sense of pride and patriotism has overcome me these past few weeks in the build up to the centenary of the World War 1 armistice. Our nation has united in our respect and remembrance for all of those who have fallen and will never be forgotten. I wanted to write a piece based around Remembrance Day and have had many ideas. I loved World War 1 literature and was drafting a piece on Wilfred Owen the famous war poet. It was only after a conversation with my granddad that I realised something. I am by no means the first "Cockney in the Countryside" as it dawned on me that my granddad had a whole tale to tell of his own.
My granddad has been and is one of the most fundamental people in my life. Years of fond childhood memories and decades of love, laughter and support have shaped my life forever. However it occurred to me that I didn't really know too much about my granddad's childhood. Today we had an amazing conversation about his early life in the East End of London and how in fact he was the original Cockney in the Countryside. Here, in his own words, is my granddad's story of evacuation during World War 2.
I was born in the Bethnal Green hospital and then lived in a little house in Poplar. London was a different place back then. We knew all of our neighbours and people in the surrounding streets and always said hello and addressed them as Mr and Mrs. My earliest memory was when I was around 3 years old. I don't know how I got there but I was laying on the floor of my bedroom, on my back looking up into the black nights sky, through a gaping hole in the rafters of my family home. We had been bombed. The next thing I remembered was my mum, four sisters and I in the back of some type of lorry. We were dropped off at a relatives of my grans where we stayed for a short time before being given another home in another part of East London. I'll never forget thinking how posh the new house was, with an inside toilet and inside coal shed!
Once again, one evening when I was around 4 or 5, I awoke to being thrown from my bed and the ceiling beginning to crumble in on us. The house at the end of the street had been hit and soon after we were evacuated. However, before we reached our destination, our whole family was admitted straight to hospital for scurvy and treated. Travelling by train with our little cases and gas masks, we left London and the smokey, derelict scenes soon turned to those of green flat plains and vast fields. We were taken to a somewhat stately home somewhere in Norfolk. The family was the owners of the famous brand Colman's Mustard. We were the only family there and the couple who owned the home treated us with kindness and I always remembered liking them. My mum commented on the amount of crockery kept there and we knew they must entertain guests for dinner parties and so forth. The house was grand with so many different rooms and the estate had 2 large lakes, endless fields and a fruit orchard. My sisters and I loved it, we spent our days running around in the open space and picking fruit. It was nothing like our games in the streets back in London. One particular day my sister Rosie and I were sent to the local village bakers to fetch a loaf of bread. We began walking but then froze in fear as there over a gate were the heads of two cows. We had never seen anything like it and ran all the way back to the house terrified! It didn't seem long that we was there when for some unknown reason my dad came to collect us and said we were all going back to London. I remember my sisters and I being so upset. I never found out why we had to go back so soon.
Back in London the war was still ongoing. Each night we slept in bunk beds in an Anderson Shelter at the bottom of the garden. One of my funniest memories was of one of my friends Brian. Myself and a group of mates were out playing in the street and we had tied poor Brian to a lamp-post. Just then we watched a doodlebug fly over head and looked on as the light at the tail went out. Doodlebugs kept flying until they ran out of fuel and then dropped and exploded. The tail light going out meant it was going to drop so we all ran as fast as we could to our homes. Except for poor Brian who was still tied to the lamp post. He acquired the nickname Doodle forever more.
I can never remember being scared through the war, probably because I was born into it and grew up with it so it was all I really knew. Across the road was a park where the soldiers had set up camp in temporary barracks. After the war ended many families squatted in these for years as they had no home to go to. I even got a paper round when I was about 8 and had to deliver the papers to the "squats." Everybody looked after each other in those days and helped one another out. Communities pulled together and we were stronger because of it.
Tomorrow marks 100 years since the end of the First World War and a day in which we remember all the soldiers and people who have fought and lost their lives through warfare. As a Christian, I pray for the solidarity and love that binded so many communities all those years ago because with that we have the strength and power to overcome the evils of this world.
P.S. I have been nominated for a UK Blog Award! If you would like to vote for me I shall love you forever and grant you three wishes… Here is the link….. No signing up or entering emails or anything just a simple click and then click the heart! https://blogawardsuk.co.uk/blog_award_category/lifestyle/page/44/


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After Narendra Modi slammed the Congress at the India's Business Reforms event in Delhi on Saturday, Union Finance Minister Arun Jaitley, in his address to media in Gandhinagar, Gujarat, took a jibe at Congress Vice-President Rahul Gandhi.
Referring to Gandhi's comments last month where he had termed the Goods Service and Tax reform as Gabbar Singh Tax, Jaitley said "He (Rahul Gandhi) doesn't have any knowledge about the subject and the Congress was also a party to the decision."
"The Gabbar Singh Tax only meant that the poor who sweats sees his money being stolen from him," Gandhi had said.
Jaitley stressed that as a party, the Congress has never taken any big decision during their tenure.
"If you look at the history of the Congress, they fought the last three elections solely focusing on only one person and only one state," Jaitley said.
Jaitley has been appointed as the BJP's poll in charge of Gujarat and he is expected to conduct meetings at the BJP's media centre in Ahmedabad.
Gandhi had earlier also posed questions on the decision of World Bank to credit the Centre for reforms such as demonetisation and GST, and India getting 100th position in the Ease of Business index. Gandhi had pointed out that both the reforms and their impact were not studied by the World Bank.
"Jaitleyji sits in the comfort of his office and believes in whatever the foreigners say. I will request him to come out of the office and ask five or 10 small and medium businessmen if ease of doing business has improved and everyone will shout there is no ease of doing business in India," Gandhi had said.
Meanwile, a BJP spokesperson said, "Jaitley will remain in Gujarat for a day and will meet different party leaders in Ahmedabad. He will focus on the campaign for the polls and will talk to the spokespersons of the party."


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Pooja Bedi's ex Veer Aryan is now dating MS Dhoni's so-called ex-girlfriend Raai Laxmi
Now that's a weird connection. Pooja Bedi's ex-boyfriend Hanif Hilal aka Veer Aryan is now reportedly dating model-turned-actor Raai Laxmi. Now this model is the one who screamed that she has dated the captain of Indian Cricket team Mahendra Singh Dhoni. It was during the release of the captain's biopic 'M.S. Dhoni: The Untold Story' starring Sushant Singh Rajput that Raai Laxmi tried to get some footage by claiming to be his girlfriend. Nothing substantial came out and the rumours were put to rest.
Talking about Hanif Hilal who changed his name to Veer Aryan shot to fame with his stint in 'Jhalak Dikhla Jaa'. He had to choreograph Bollywood actress Pooja Bedi and that's when they fell in love with each other. Apparently after their breakup, Hanif was linked to Karisma Tanna.
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As of now, Hanif with new name would be seen in Vikram Bhatt's web series named 'Maaya'.
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La Truite Enchantée Le Pont-de-Montvert
La Truite Enchantée
This pretty auberge is located in the heart of the Cevennes National Park and has a friendly, welcoming atmosphere. The 8 rooms are simple, but clean and comfortable and the restaurant serves delicious food.
A continental breakfast is served with homemade jams. The restuarant serves a variety of dishes including trout, salmon, duck and chicken.
- En suite rooms
- Pet friendly


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A cruel artifact gets scholar's treatment
In 1993, a mason doing demolition work at a house in the small town of Barcarrota, Spain, near the Portuguese border, put his pickaxe through a wall and into a hidden trove of 16th-century texts. The cache included a Spanish picaresque novel, Italian pornography, and a palm-reading manual. It also contained a previously unknown edition of Alborayque, a long-popular polemic against Spain's conversos, the Jews who converted to Christianity under duress during the Middle Ages.
On the advice of one of Spain's leading medievalists, a government-owned press commissioned Dwayne Carpenter, a professor of Hispanic studies and codirector of the Jewish studies program at Boston College, to prepare a treatise on Alborayque, an annotation framed in historical, social, and religious context to accompany a facsimile edition of the pamphlet discovered at Barcarrota. The two-volume set was published last year.
According to Carpenter, Jews likely arrived on the Iberian peninsula with the Romans in the first century a.d., and for 14 centuries their descendants lived lives separate from Christians and, after the year 711, from the region's Muslim newcomers. In 1391, however, following anti-Jewish riots that spread throughout Spain, many Jews accepted Christian baptism for fear of violence and became known as conversos. Forced conversions continued through the 15th century, particularly following the establishment of the Spanish Inquisition by papal bull in 1478. In 1492, Jews were expelled from Spain, leaving an estimated 300,000 conversos behind.
For anti-Jewish Spanish Christians, says Carpenter, "the solution of conversion had worked a little too well." Jews who had converted were "absorbed into the Christian community, and whereas in the past they could easily be separated from the rest of the community—because they were Jews—now . . . you had conversos entering the clergy, assuming municipal offices, doing business that they were [previously] prohibited from engaging in." A new pathway for discrimination seemed needed, "and this," says Carpenter, "is where the notion of purity of blood comes in. We move from traditional theological anti-Judaism to racial anti-Semitism."
Alborayque is an early expression of racial anti-Semitism. The first known version of the book dates from around 1465, and Carpenter dates the printed edition found in Barcarrota to around 1525.
The text makes the comparison of conversos to Alborayque (in English, Al-Buraq), the chimerical steed that Mohammed rode into the Seventh Heaven. In Islamic tradition, Al-Buraq is a beautiful all-white winged hybrid, half-mule and half-donkey. In Alborayque, its tail is made a serpent; it has the mouth of a wolf, the foot and eyes of a human, the body of an ox, 20 such corruptions in all. (The Barcarrota edition was illustrated by two woodcuts, both punctured by the mason's pickaxe.) Each corruption prompts an analogy with conversos. They are depicted as purveyors of hypocrisy, murder, deicide, sodomy, and religious and racial impurity. The slurs, in Castilian, are supported with biblical verses ranging from the Hebrew Scripture (Genesis 49:10, for example) to Revelation (2:9), printed in Latin. Despite the Islamic motif, Muslim converts to Christianity are not attacked.
Ten distinct editions of Alborayque are known to exist. Carpenter has been studying the text since 1990, when only three versions were known. The Barcarrota edition is unique for its appendix, a collection of 16 curses that conversos were said to utter against Christians, written in both Castilian and transliterated Hebrew.
Carpenter's treatise, published in Spanish by the Editora Regional de Extremadura, is the result of four years' labor. The 26-page facsimile it accompanies is accurate down to the scars inflicted by the mason's axe. The original Barcarrota pamphlet is housed now in the town where it was found, in a library built on the site of what was previously a mosque.
Read more by Paul Voosen


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Yesterday we headed out for a hike in Shenandoah and as I'm packing Noah's diaper bag I remembered these cool little pouches of baby food that I bought at Target the other day. The pouches are from PlumOrganics and come in a bunch of yummy flavors. Today's selection was pumpkin and banana!
I bought them because I thought they'd be good for on-the-go type situations and I was right! Check out Noah having his lunch on the trail:
The little pouches are quick to open and easy to reseal. The spout on them actually works well without a spoon (Noah even figure out how to just suck on the spout to get the food out). I saw on their website that you can attach a Boon spoon if you have one but I found that not necessary.
They're a tad bit more expensive than the jars of food but the convenience of them is unbeatable so it's totally worth it!
I was in no way prompted or compensated for this review – I just really thought these were cool and that my mommy friends should know about them!


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Monday, after my visit to the Martime Museum with my grandchildren, I found a pocket of my coat open.
"I was robbed!"
A horrible feeling. Violation of "me". A sense of vulnerability.
What I was stolen?
My keys! Where are the keys to my apartment, my car, all together? Nowhere.
The problem was not how I'll enter to my place, I had spare keys in my family, but who will enter in my home?
Who will break into, take whatever he feels like, I have to be afraid of who?
I was scared.
That night, I trembled before opening, full of apprehension that I find the other side of the door.
No one has entered in my absence.
And tomorrow? And after tomorrow? What to do?
"Call the Museum may be the keys have fallen there", as someone suggested to me? I found the number, waited, waited, explained, once and then again. Unfortunately not, it was not there, they did not find any keys that day.
After a full day when I dared not stir from home "that will come in my absence?" they called me "your keys are not here, we did not find any keys."
I put my head under the sand. "Tomorrow, I'll decide what to do."
Redo my keys? Announcing the loss, the theft? Even my car keys where there. Why did I put all my keys in the same place?
Who and when was able to seel me? Approach me? Why? Was it my home adress there too, or just the keys? My card that I give to others call me, contact me? In general, this is the email address, address of my pictures from my blog only, not my full adress. But if somey ...What else was with my keys in the same pocket, found open and empty?
Yesterday morning at five, I got up, determined.
Get out your head from the sand and start doing! And, also try, one last time, to feel al hope is gone, to be over it, renounce hoping having the key "somewhere."
I took out all of my many pockets, then I started to feel my cloak bit by bit.
In the sleeve, hidden and fallen somewhere profound, I found my keys.
I have them. Nobody has touched them. I was not reassured completely. All the scenarios imagined, I still can not quite get out of my head, they seem still almost as real.
So many things happen in our heads!
"You have learned a lesson" said my little son. The next time you will look better. The next time ....
A lesson? What lesson? Do not immediately think the worst?
What was all this good for, I asked myself, as is my habit.
At least, to have a story to tell. Perhaps, next time be slower to panic. Not immediately imagine the worst.


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Here are some reminders before you start building your bunk bed.
Building bunk beds based on well-written bunk bed plans is possible, even for a beginner. Most plans will begin by having you build two separate twin beds out of wood. For basic models, this means building a frame for a mattress along with a head and footboard for each one. You might incorporate box springs to support the mattress, or you might choose to simply construct a base for the mattress out of plywood. Whichever you choose, this is the basic frame and creativity quickly follows in the process.
The truth is most loft beds aren't designed for the normal wear and tear that happens over several years of usage. If you are planning to build your own, this is especially true. But, if you know exactly what you need to do before you begin building your new furniture should be completely safe.
Using bunk beds is a good way to maximize space, especially if your floor area is very limited. This type of furniture is actually very popular and commonly found in the rooms of children, residence halls of colleges and universities, ships and trains.
There are various types of kids bunk beds to choose from depending upon your needs. The most basic, and usually the first type that comes to mind, is the simple design of one single bed stacked on top of another single bed. This is probably the best option if you are concerned about space.
The best thing to do is to follow one of the many bunk bed plans available online. This also you to create your project in a timely manner, getting the bed made in 1/2 day roughly apart from vanishing or painting.
Before you begin your woodwork project, the last thing to make sure of is to have a quality, detailed set of plans with which to work. Good plans save time, money, and frustration, no matter what type of furniture you're building.
If you don't know the difference between loft bed plans and bunk bed plans, I'll tell you. Loft beds are usually single beds built higher than usual above the floor, while bunk beds are usually two beds, one above the other, built for young adults or children.
At times, the most efficient guides even include blueprints for including storage spaces incorporated with the beds. These plans are another way you can save space. Also, you get to save on money for buying separate plans for building storage bins.
1. Evaluate the room where you want your new bed to be. Plot the space that the bed will occupy and make allowances for the rest of the furniture in the room. Now get accurate measurements of the space where you plan to put your bed. Visit different hardware stores and acquire the needed materials before you start on your project. Make sure you shop around for the best possible deals.


text: In this episode I dive into what it takes to TRULY be productive. Our ability to be productive and follow through on our passions can be drastically increased by having a healthy nervous system. I share some staggering statistics for what our future may look like in terms of chronic disease, if we don't start addressing our body's response to stress. Our ability to create & contribute, and not simply consume, comes from a very highly specialized part of our brains and I share my story of what this looks like in real-time.


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Using social media to gather evidence of human rights abuses shows the true potential of technologyCategories Uncategorised
Earlier this week, I took part in a panel hosted by WeWork in Moorgate for the launch of their Creator Awards. I'd initially agreed to it out of politeness, assuming it was going to be a pretty standard panel discussion on banking or something equally repetitive, and turned up somewhat reluctantly.
I couldn't have been more wrong. My two co-panellists were inspiring examples of people using technology to tell stories and uncover secrets in their own individual ways.
The first was Eva Krysiak, an audio producer who creates Everyone Else, a "photographic podcast telling the stories of strangers". The best way I can describe the podcast is Humans of New York account in audio form. She's helped everyone from a lifelong nudist to a man from the Indonesian island of Siau tell their stories in personal, beautiful ways.
And then there was Eyal Weizman, a Professor at Goldsmiths University and the founder of Forensic Architecture, a research group based out of Goldsmiths. When Eyal arrived for the panel, our host, Yessi Bello Perez from UK Tech News, had to ask him what a forensic architect actually did — a question we all were wanting to ask.
Forensic Architecture work with groups like Amnesty International and Médecins Sans Frontières to uncover human rights abuses across the world, using technology to access the information they need to build a case.
For example, after the Israeli bombing campaign in Gaza in 2014, Forensic Architecture gathered as many photos and videos taken by Gazans during the bombing as they possibly could, primarily from public sources like Twitter and Instagram, to build a picture of what actually happened on the ground. They built a 3D model of the scene by matching bomb cloud patterns between photos and videos taken by different people to reconstruct the impact of theHannibal Directive — "a controversial command designed to deal with captures of soldiers by unleashing massive firepower on persons, vehicles and buildings in the vicinity of the attack, despite the risk to civilians and the captured soldier".
As a result of this groundbreaking research, Amnesty then published a report titled "Black Friday", opening up a huge debate around the Hannibal Directive and subsequently leading to its use being significantly curtailed. More recently, Forensic Architecture have investigated a detention centre in Cameroon, the Libyan coastguard dealing with refugees in the Mediterranean and the Grenfell Tower fire, all of which have public reports on their website.
People like Eyal are leveraging the power of technology to resist the ever-increasing powers of state actors. Governments usually have a huge surveillance advantage over normal people, with access to CCTV, satellites and drones; by tapping into the ubiquity of social media, Forensic Architecture are rebalancing those power dynamics.
This is where technology can be a tremendous force for good, in distributing power away from a centralised force and back to individuals. Whether it's enabling the telling of unique stories or tackling human rights abuses head on, Eva and Eyal are working to decentralise that control in inspiring ways.
And when we all told Eyal how interesting his work sounded, his response: "Is it?"


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Even as I child I was fascinated by pregnant women and babies. As I grew older I was amazed with the many wonderful things a human body is capable of doing.
I got started in this field because of the wonderful care I received with my first pregnancy. It wasn't until a few years later when some of my family members had given birth and were relating their stories that I noticed there was something missing. There was no encouragement, or support. They felt they had no choices in their births or pregnancies and were not respected, and they felt very alone and uncertain after having their baby. It was then that I realized that something had to be done about this.
Shortly after, the word Doula appeared almost out of the air and that was all it took. Since then I have devoted my time to helping pregnant people and their partners become empowered and confident parents.
I am a Birth, and Bereavement Doula, Cesarean and VBAC Support Specialist, Childbirth Educator, reflexologist, a mother of two wonderful girls, a wife, and a fitness and outdoors enthusiast living in Burlington. Welcoming a baby into your family offers many incredible learning experiences. I feel very blessed to be working in a field I feel so passionate about. I also feel very honoured to be invited into such a special and unique time in people's lives to help them have the most rewarding, enriching experience possible. I look forward to helping you make your "Birth Beginnings" a bright and positive one that you will cherish forever.
E-mail me! email@example.com
As a postpartum provider, I enjoy bringing some peace and harmony to a new family; giving families the gift of time, rest and self-care.
As a parent I found my "village" of support was small, and working as a Postpartum Doula, Breastfeeding Educator, and Infant Sleep Educator I can help families create a "village" for themselves that will carry them along their own beautiful journey through parenthood!
I have held a longtime passion for breastfeeding, and have been supporting families as a Breastfeeding Educator since 2007, armed with skills of what is normal for a newborn, and how to maintain your unique breastfeeding arrangement.
As an Infant sleep educator, I will review the goals you have for your sleep health, and explore options that support your families optimal health, well-being, and sanity.
It is important for families to know this is their story and my role is to help them begin a new chapter with strength, confidence, empowerment and joy!
E-mail Me! firstname.lastname@example.com
During my first pregnancy, I developed a love for the birthing and parenting world. It wasn't until a few years ago that I realized what a positive impact I could have serving others as a doula.
When I began this journey, I had a vague idea of helping mothers in their early postpartum. However, the more I learn (and I am constantly learning!), the clearer my destination becomes. I am here to support all families and to share my knowledge with them.
I believe that every family deserves support and encouragement in those crucial first weeks and months of parenthood. My passion isn't just providing in-home care to families but also educating them on a variety of topics, particularly breastfeeding and sleep. I am here to support, educate and empower you. I am here to encourage you to follow your heart.
My services are also available in French.
E-mail Me! firstname.lastname@example.com


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Puppies and Winter
It is currently January, and I am sitting on a big comfy chair in front of the window with a cup of tea and some music and I'm watching the snow fall and the puppies play in the park across the street where we just built this snowman:
(*Side note, as I sit here and watch people take photos with this little guy, I can't help but revel in the happiness that snowmen spread. It makes me smile!*)
And even though I should probably be doing my homework, I'm loving winter, which is my favorite season (until the snow melts and the flowers bloom, then I'll be head over heels in love with spring). So I thought I'd share some photos that I've collected over the past month or so.
First up: (surrogate) family photos from the snowman-making process. We kinda like each other.
We also love puppies, and thoroughly enjoyed playing with these beautiful dogs, Milo and Galaxy, who live just down the street. (Galaxy, with the gorgeous blue eyes, is both deaf and mostly blind.)
In case you weren't sure that both Boston and Lake Tahoe are beautiful places to live, here is the Charles River, mostly frozen, and Lake Tahoe, mostly gorgeous.
Last month, after Christmas but before it actually decided to snow in Tahoe, Robby and I went for a walk around the lake and ran into these beautiful puppies
Also, can we talk about the fact that my baby brother isn't such a baby anymore? It is very clear that he is past little boy stage too, and living on the cusp of manhood.
Five Photos, Five Stories
Stanford Sierra Camp runs Saturday to Saturday, and is filled from start to finish with lots of fun experiences. (I wrote about camp last year here, here, and here.) I promised that I would write more about camp, so I'm going to write five stories here. I'm picking my stories by picking the photos to accompany them. These are my five favorite photos from camp, and five resultant stories:
Every Wednesday evening is the conclusion of Beach Day – a campfire complete with camp songs and s'mores. Let's be honest here, most of my favorite songs ever are the songs we sing at the campfire every year, and I love love love the opportunity to sit on the beach, stare out over the lake, and watch the sun set to the tune of Puff the Magic Dragon and Wagon Wheel. And we obviously always finish with I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane.
I took this photo at the end of campfire, of a marshmallow my dad had roasted, with the lake and sunset in the background. The s'more that came out of that marshmallow was fabulous, by the way.
All the SSC counselors are Stanford undergrad students, which means that I am exactly the right age to be a counselor. Combine that with the reality that a) I've been going to camp for years and years and know my way around and b) I like kids, and you can understand why kids think I'm a counselor and consequently ask me all sorts of questions. Over the course of the week, I got asked where to put dirty glasses between meals, whether or not the fountain was open, where specific kids' groups met, etc. etc. It also meant that they didn't question if I wanted to take pictures of them, because they just assumed I was one of the staff photographers. (Oops?)
When I was growing up, my hair was all over the place. Lots of fly-aways, lots of tangles. Lots of all the things we try to limit as we get a bit older. And being at camp is no different; for the first couple days of camp I tried to keep the fly-aways, well, away. And then I just gave up. My brother tried to tease me about it by saying "You look like a counselor!" I had the camp-y hair, the casual shorts and t-shirt so common around camp, and the dark tan of a few days/weeks in the sun. But the thing is, camp hair, and being compared to a counselor, is maybe the best thing that you could ever call me.
This girl was on the ski dock with a bunch of her friends, fishing for crawdads, as is traditional at Camp. I love the parallel between her frizzies and the fraying rope.
Camp is a bit outside the city, which means that there are birds, squirrels, and the occasional bear. Honestly, there isn't actually that much wildlife, but the wildlife we do get to see is wonderful. And the trees are amazing, and the stars are soooo bright, and generally, nature is beautiful. That's it, I guess. Ducks!
There are a lot of floating docks around camp, and this duck was chilling out on one just behind my family's cabin at the edge of camp. I'm not sure what it was looking at, but I kinda wish I knew…
At its heart, Stanford Sierra Camp is a family camp. As kids grow up, they tend to abandon their families at home, but somehow they come back at SSC. We sleep in a little cabin together, we eat dinner together (sometimes), we eat breakfast together (often), we do crafts together, go sailing together, go hiking together, throw eggs at each other…
These guys were waiting for Mom before they walked back from Beach Day, which thoroughly exhausted the youngest. She was nearly asleep, until her big sister gave her a kiss on the top of her head; then her eyes popped open and looked right at me.
A week 4 tradition, The Plunge is a little bit like a Polar Bear Swim, if you know what that is… Long story short, everyone wakes up and heads down to the lake at 7:30 Friday morning. 200+ people jump into the lake at once (more or less) and then yell out "Oooh! That's cold" before racing out of the lake as fast as physically possible. This year, we beat our record once again (last year was 222, this year was 234). But my favorite part of The Plunge was a more personal moment. I jumped in, and was freezing cold, ready to hop out. But I looked up onto the dock, and a little girl – maybe 9? – was standing there, too scared to jump in herself. So I stayed there, treading water, and held my arms up to her, much like you would to a little kid climbing out of a tree. I told her I'd be there and help her get out of the water, and her dad would be up on the dock to help her too. And she jumped! Right in front of me, and she was holding on before her head had even come back up out of the water. It was just a little thing, and I don't even know her name. But her dad found me later and thanked me for helping his daughter conquer her fear of the water – apparently that was the only time she jumped in the lake all week. Although I don't blame her; it's pretty cold!
If you head to the lake early enough in the morning (before The Plunge, of course), the lake is actually pretty smooth. This is when guests go rowing, and when staph go water skiing. (Yes, the Stanford-educated staphers fail to spell their own title correctly. Also, the people who make our meals work in the Chicken. Don't ask.) But this is when I get some cool photos of the lake, like this one of the ladder to get back onto the boat dock.
It Hit Me Somewhere Over Greenland
I'm a bit more than a bit delayed in posting this. My sincere apologies; we'll blame it on jet lag?
It hit me somewhere over Greenland. All of a sudden, I looked out the window and I started to cry. Honestly, I'm a little surprised the crying didn't start as soon as the plane took off in Prague, but it could just be that I fell asleep.
It hit me that I was leaving. No, that I was gone.
That everything that has happened for the last nine months was over. That the family I had been living with was no longer my family, and that the kids I watched grow up every single day would keep growing up. That next time I see them, it will be in one, two, five, ten, who knows how many years, and they will be completely different.
That they will come home tonight (well, I suppose they've already gotten home, at this point) and they will realize that I'm not there. Because even though we explained to them, and I think Emma understood, I know Jachym had no idea. He saw my bags, but I've packed before. I went to France, and I went to Turkey, and I went to Italy, and every time I had a bag. Every time he watched me throw clothes all over my room and fold them and pack them and unpack them and refold them and repack them. And all of that happened again. Sure, this was the first time everything was getting packed, but what does that really mean to a four year old? I dropped him off at preschool today.
It will be the last time I ever do that.
I braided Emma's hair this morning, and it'll be the last time I ever do that. By the time I get back, she'll have grown out of the desire to have someone do her hair every morning, or maybe she'll have learned how to French braid her own hair.
I said goodbye to Filip yesterday like I do every morning, just a simple "Ahoj!" as I headed out the door. I didn't know he was going on another business trip to Moscow, or that I wouldn't see him again before I hopped on a plane. At least I got to say a proper goodbye to Anna. But how do you say a proper goodbye to someone who opened her home and her kitchen to you for nine months? How can you possibly thank her properly.
And I didn't get to say goodbye to everyone at CIEE. I didn't even see Veronika, who was the most stable, most helpful person I met over the entire nine months. She saw every single one of my breakdowns while I was in Prague – she is the only person who saw any of my breakdowns while I was in Prague. She may, in fact, have seen as many of my breakdowns as my mother has in my whole life. (Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration – I've had more than a couple breakdowns with my mom.)
But Veronika also went out for beer with me and went to the theater with me and is front and center of all my favorite lunches in Prague. She was the one I sent postcards when I went on vacation from my vacation, and she was the one I came to see when I got back. Needless to say, Veronika was a big part of my time in Prague and I didn't even get to give her a hug goodbye.
Nor did I get to say goodbye to Martina. My very best Czech friend, even though she's actually Slovak. We went our separate ways on Friday, with the expectation of hanging out Saturday night. But life intervened, and here I am. On a plane over Greenland, and I never said goodbye.
I tried telling Holly that it doesn't matter. That you don't have to say goodbye to everyone that mattered to you. If they were important to you over the time you were in Prague, then they know that. You'll stay in touch, and that last goodbye won't make or break the relationship you remember, or the relationship you'll have in the future. And even if I think that's true (and I don't necessarily think that's true), it doesn't change the fact that it sucks to leave without saying goodbye.
At least I got to say goodbye to the city. I got to take a last wander through the streets, to smile at the tourists lost or drunk or simply confused by the mazes, to take a final walk along the river with my camera, to take a few final pictures of the castle I saw at least twice a day on my way to and from school.
I liked living in a city with a castle. That hit me somewhere over Greenland too.
My Forum Interview
Last week, I had an interview that was supposed to last 15-20 minutes. Instead, it lasted almost 45. I was interviewed by Irene Noguchi, one of the producers on KQED's Forum.
Perhaps it was a result of her time conducting interviews both on and off air, but she asked me some of the best questions I've ever been asked. Not only that, but she saw things in me through my resume that I hadn't even put together about myself.
Preceding the interview, she asked me to put together three pitches for three story ideas for Forum, which was both more fun and more challenging than I expected it to be. But she said they were very thorough and impressively detailed, so that's good. One of my pitches was about the robots and science in the search for lost planes, specifically the Malaysian Airlines Flight 370 still missing somewhere in the Indian Ocean, one was about the company Pley, renting toys, and the importance of playing with new toys for children's' development, and the third was about the sad lack of international authors translated into English.
As we were talking, Ms. Noguchi asked me why I had traveled to Prague, and what I was getting out of my experience. It was a question I was expecting; in fact, in my internship course just last week, we had mock interviews, and every single person got asked this question. When I answered it in class, I talked about my personal connection to Prague, the fact that my dad spent hours, days, weeks, with Babi translating documents from Czech after Deda died, and my worry that no-one in my family will be able to do that when the inevitable happens and Babi passes on too. In class, my teacher and classmates suggest I not talk about it. Use the question to express your interest in seeing the world, in learning about a new culture; answer every question honestly, but spin every answer to market some aspect of yourself. When Ms. Noguchi asked me that same question, I ignored all the advice, and answered it the same way I'd answered it in class. Instead of being put off by such a personal answer, she nonchalantly said, "So you're the family historian."
I'd never thought of it that way. I don't think I have that much interest in family history, really. We have a family tree of Babi's side framed in her house, and I know I've always been fascinated by it. I love hearing the stories of the past and of all our relatives, but I can never remember them. Isn't remembering an innate part of being a historian? So I didn't really think of myself as a family historian, but since that interview, I think it might be an accurate description. I mean, look at this blog. As much of what I've written about Prague has been about my search for my family's history as it has been about anything else. Maybe it is a role I'm stepping into, one step, one story, at a time?
Regardless, the next thing Ms. Noguchi said hit me as telling: "That's good. Everyone in radio, I think, is attracted to the story, whatever it is." And we moved on.
A bit later, she said something else that I maybe could have predicted, but also hadn't really put together. She asked another question, phrased as if it was something obvious. "I see a robots theme here on your resume. Research at Tufts, the Girl Scouts Robotics team." She interrupted herself. "I didn't even know the Girl Scouts had a robotics team. And then one of your pitches was about robots. Tell me about this theme."
My answer to this question isn't really all that relevant, but I did find it interesting. I don't think I'm as into robots as I used to be; I'm not on robotics teams anymore, at least. But I still find them fascinating. I read pretty much every article about robots I come across, and I write about them too! Maybe I'm more into robots than I thought, and it just took a single, well-thought out question to show me that.
I hope that, among all the things I get to do this summer, I can learn to ask the type of questions Ms. Noguchi asked me. I hope that I can learn from her, from the other Forum producer Judy Campbell, editor Dan Zoll, and of course host Michael Krasny, to ask the right questions to get the interesting answers.
Because about two days after our interview, I got the email everyone wants when they're applying for a job. Starting in less than 4 weeks, I'll be working on KQED's Forum as an intern, helping to pick and research show topics and guests, to screen callers, and to put the ten hours of fascinating content I've listened to for as long as I remember on air.
I'm super excited for this opportunity, and I want to take a second to thank Emily Sena and her friend Erika Kelly for helping me even get an interview. I know from experience that getting the interview is the hard part, so I'm eternally grateful to these two. (Get networking, kids! It is totally worth it!)
I know that the very first thing I'm going to do when I meet Michael Krasny is ask him two questions: How many books do you read a week? How? Because it is clear from his interviews with authors that he reads every book he talks about on air, and obviously dozens on top of that. So I want to learn his secret…
I think it is safe to say that the reality of the awesomeness of this hasn't really hit me yet. I'm going to working on a nationally aired news program on NPR. Based on things I've read (including this blog by a Stanford student who interned on Forum, and this interview of Forum editor Dan Zoll) I know that this is going to be an amazing internship, where I will get real responsibilities from Day 1, get to meet amazing people from all walks of life, and hopefully find a career I love (either radio, or something else that one of the hundreds of guests I'll interact with does…). Regardless, I'm very excited for what this summer holds in store for me, and I'll make sure to keep everyone updated as the summer progresses!
And if you've got any questions you want me to pose to anyone on the Forum staff, or others who work for KQED, sound off below and I'll see what I can do!
Some Sort of Story
This story starts about a week ago, with this picture:
Actually, it's a picture of a picture. My dad emailed it to me, with a request that I go find the grave and see what it looks like today. In a city filled with cemeteries, he was kind enough to give me a plot number and the cemetery I'd find it in: Olšansky Hřibitov. A quick google search took me to a Wikipedia page, which told me I'd find approximately 65,000 graves there. Good thing I had a plot number. So I found a map of the cemetery online, looked for the spot I'd find my ancestors, and came up empty. Well, not empty, actually. I found three possibilities, each a ½ mile apart. In addition, I found a "find-the-grave-site" site, claiming my family could be found at a completely different plot number. So was it 20-4-18 or 2ob-16-82oh? I now had four possibilities and a headache. But I was done with classes, and it was only mid-afternoon, so I prepared for my 45 minute metro journey, stopping to buy flowers on the way.
When I said this story started a week ago, I lied. It actually started 6 years ago, when my grandparents brought us all on a family trip to Prague. (Okay, it actually started 100-ish years ago when my relatives died, but we're talking about my part in this story.)
There are only a handful of moments I really remember from that trip. I mean remember – smells, sounds, everything. Our trip to the cemetery was one of them. I remembered the gravel paths and the ivy-covered headstones and the ornamental gate. I remember that we showed up too late in the day to get in, but Babi and Deda convinced them to let us in anyway. Not a big picture, to be sure, but enough details to know that where I was was wrong:
Sure, the paths could have been paved in the last half decade, and certainly things change everyday, even in a cemetery. But Olšansky hřibitov was too colorful, too big, and felt too new. Nonetheless, I wandered through for hours, checking off one possible spot after the next. With no luck. No Voticky. No ivy. Nope.
I came out the other side of the cemetery, unsure of what to do. I didn't want to disappoint my dad and send him the email, "I couldn't find it." But more than that, I didn't want to lose that spot. Deda isn't going to be telling us where to find it – Babi is too old to get back to Prague. A big reason I came to Prague was to preserve, at least for one more generation, my family's history. Something unspoken pulled me to Prague this year, and the same thing told me to keep looking. I didn't know where I was going until I got there. The New Jewish Cemetery, just across the street from Olšansky, had the ornamental gate I remember and, even more promisingly, it was closed. When I looked through the gate, and saw the trees covered in ivy, the grounds covered in ivy, the graves covered in ivy, I knew it was the right spot.
Actually, that's not how it happened at all. As soon as I rounded the corner, I saw the metro stop Želivského. I recognized it right away. Like a puzzle piece I didn't know what missing, that image fit right in. All of a sudden, I remembered being 14 years old, coming out of that metro station, looking around, and being absolutely convinced the long trip had not been worth it. (To my 14-year-old self, this turned out to be true. To my 20-year-old self, not true.) Then, I looked through the gate, saw the gravel path and the ivy covered stones, and knew I'd found the right place. Of course, at this point, I was a little cold, a lot hungry, and tired of carrying those damn tulips around. Plus, the gates were shut, the lady locking them as I showed up. I know enough Czech to know she told me "the cemetery is closed." But I don't speak enough Czech to beg her to let us in. All I could do was look at the flowers in my hand, at the watch on my wrist, and at the back of her head as she walked away. It was like déjà vu, but with a different ending. So I went home.
This story ends today. Or at least, that's what happens for now. I don't have classes on Thursdays, so I left the house this morning and went back across town, once again stopping for flowers on the way. This time, I knew where I was going, it would be a cinch. The cemetery was open; I found the section easily. But the rows? Where did they start? Which one was one? And which plot in each row was the first? I quickly realized that, once again, I had 4 options. So I walked up and down, reading name after name, feeling more disheartened each moment. I was ready to give up, and then I realized, I remembered.
I said earlier that this moment was one of the few I really remembered. So I let my memory tell me where to go. I retraced the steps we had taken oh, so long ago, with Babi leaning on my arm, Deda leading the way. I followed my memory to the end of the section, followed us as we turned left up the rows. I stopped, as we had once stopped, about halfway up. I walked down the row, looking to my right. The grave wasn't far in, that I knew. And there it is. Success.
Unsurprisingly, the grave has withstood the test of time.
They tend to do that.
As I sit here, having laid my rock and flowers before my ancestors, I think I've found my favorite place in Prague. Years ago, Mom told me her favorite study spot was a cemetery near her apartment, and I thought she was crazy. But sitting her, I kind of understand. It's quiet. I hear the birds in the trees and the crunching of leaves whenever I take a step. If I try, I can hear the distinctive squeal of the trams as they round the corner – the same corner I walked around when I knew where I was. I can hear other people; there aren't many. But Franz Kafka's grave is just over there, and Arnost Lustig, who died only two years ago, is buried here too. There is something incredible about the way things work in here. Most of these graves were first dug about 100 years ago, as Jewish soldiers died in WWI. Some, of course, are much older. But almost every one has the extra names of family members killed during the Holocaust. Just names, no dates. But the ivy and the trees don't care. They grow over every plot: new, old, and in between. The test of time knocks some headstones over, but most survive. The living come here to pay their respects, but the real life in a place like this is what we can't see. Except in time. The plants that prosper, the memories that survive, the ghosts that I hear in the whisper of the wind. Today is a cloudy day, dreary. But sitting here, with the family I never met, I feel like the clouds are just there. There is nothing ominous about the white sky I look up at. Somehow it seems that blue sky wouldn't really fit the day – today is all about greens and greys.
(It may surprise some readers that there is nothing in this post about the names on the bottom of this stone. I couldn't possibly write about all that again, especially since I'm going back to Terezin tomorrow. If you want to read about it, check out my post about my last trip to Terezin here.)
Family, meet Family, meet Family
My family came from San Francisco to visit me for Thanksgiving because my brother had the whole week off of school. We did all sorts of cool and exciting things, including (but not limited to) a tour of a Bohemian glass factory, a tour of Kutna Hora, some wandering through the streets, some hot chocolate (Robby) and mulled wine (Mom), and some nice meals.
My parents helped me cook the turkey for CIEE's Homestay Thanksgiving meal, which meant that they got to come home and see where I'm living this year here in Prague. It was funny, because Anna was annoyed that I hadn't told her that my parents were coming so she could clean up, but seriously, the flat in its messiest state merely resembles our house back in San Mateo. The kids were a bit shy with new people around, and were clearly confused by my dad's attempts to speak the little amount of Czech he knows with them. Interestingly, they glommed onto me as if I was leaving – which does not bode well for when I actually leave, but that is an issue for a few months from now.
It was really fun, though, and I'm really glad they got to meet each other, even if only for a little bit. And I couldn't resist the opportunity to introduce them: "Family, meet my family. Family, meet my family." Both families know the others' names, so real introductions weren't actually necessary.
On Wednesday night, we went out to dinner with our family. By "we," I mean my nuclear family – Mom, Dad, Robby, myself. By "our family," I mean our Czech relatives. We had no idea how many people were coming, and it ended up being a lot. I think there were 17 of us, but I didn't actually count. It was a lot of fun, because everyone else spoke English, but they all wanted me to try to speak Czech. (Okay, it was fun, but also very difficult.) At one point, Bozka (our 90+ matriarch) told me to say something in Czech. I didn't really know what to say, just like I never knew what to say when people said "Say something in Japanese." So I said something silly about how my Czech class's favorite thing to say is "Proč ne?" (Why not?). It made everyone laugh – I guess I speak well enough to be understood…
I got to listen to a lot of conversations going on around me in Czech and understood a few bits and pieces here and there, which bodes well for my long-term linguistic capabilities. I also got to meet a lot of my relatives, who are actually really fun to be around. Well, some of them. The ones that are closer to my age – in their 20's, 30's, and younger 40's. The ones closer to my dad's age aren't quite as much fun, but it is still nice to have met them, to have gotten their email addresses. I got invited to Christmas dinner at one's house, Dec. 26's "traditional turkey dinner" at another, and told to call anytime I'm near Old Town Square and want to stop by for a cup of coffee. (I'm near Old Town Square pretty much every day…)
Look for more posts about my family's visit to Prague shortly, but for now, everyone should know that I'm really glad they came and all my families were able to meet each other.
To write this post, I really have to start a few years ago: the last time I was in Prague. My grandparents brought our whole family here to explore the city they had been born in, to learn a bit of the family history, to visit Europe, and to have a fun family vacation. Although I was old enough to understand some of why we came, I think I missed a lot of the family history they wanted to share with us, and that is one of the many many reasons I decided to come to Prague.
When we were here, we went all over the city, visiting typical tourist spots, but also Babi's high school and the house Deda was born in and the park they both played in. We also visited the Pinkas Synagogue, which is famous for the names written on the walls. Not just any names, but names of the 80,000 Czech Jews lost during the war. The Synagogue is dedicated to these people whose lives were lost. Some were lost in the sense that they were killed; some were lost in the sense that the last written record of them are the Nazi deportation lists these names are copied off of. I remember the wall of Prague Jews, the red last names and the gold stars separating families. And I remember Deda standing there, staring at the wall for what seemed like an eternity. I remember the single tear that rolled down his cheek before he hustled us out, saying we'd spent enough time with him showing us around the city, and that we deserved an ice cream.
My grandparents said that they'd always wanted to take the family to Prague and had just been waiting for all us grandkids to be old enough. Maybe that was true. But I can't help but think that they knew they were reaching the end of their ability to travel across the ocean. They were old enough that crossing the city was a long, slow process, but they were determined to share some history with us. I respect them immensely for that. But I also realize that I witnessed something unique that day. Not just the tear, though it was the only tear I've ever seen on Deda's face. But also that I got to see the last time my grandfather ever visited his mother and brother. Because, when there is no body to be buried, the closest thing family gets to a grave is the name written on the wall in memorandum.
Back to present day. My Jewish history class took a trip to Lidice and Terezin. Lidice is the town completely destroyed by the Nazis in revenge for the assassination by Czechs of SS Officer Heidrich. The Nazis killed every man, and sent every woman and child to concentration camps. They bombed and burned the town to the ground, and even dug up every body in the cemetery. Not a single Jew lived in the town. Terezin is the fortress town the Nazis turned into a Jewish ghetto/concentration camp/transport camp. Nearly every Czech Jew was sent through Terezin on his way to concentration and work camps.
Needless to say, it was an emotional day for everyone that went. Its hard to face the reality of what happened. Even when you know the facts, the emotion of actually being there always hits harder than you expect.
Ever since the aforementioned trip to the Pinkas Synagogue a few years ago, I've always looked for my grandfather's immediate family's names in lists of names. It doesn't matter where I am. (even if the list has nothing to do with the Holocaust, I look at the names.) And, honestly, I've stopped expecting to see any names I know.
We were walking around a museum in Terezin, filled with stories and pictures the kids drew while they lived in the town. Parents and other adults did the best they could to make life in Terezin as normal as possible, giving children an education and the ability to express themselves and a soccer field to play on when they had the strength. I walked into another room, and am surrounded on all four sides by off-white walls covered in names and dates. The names of children sent to Terezin and their birthdates.
Like any other list, I scan for the names. Like any other list, I expect to see absolutely nothing.
And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. Knocked the wind right out of me, and I literally doubled over. There it was, the name I'd been always looking for but desperately hoping to never see. I was sliding down the wall, gasping for breath, and I heard a comforting voice, but I didn't know who it was and I didn't care and I couldn't think.
The next five minutes are a blur. I don't know what anyone said, I don't know what really happened. Then we were watching a propaganda movie filmed by the Nazis near the end of the war, as an attempt to convince the Allies that the camps were good for the Jews. There were young boys playing soccer, watering plants in the garden, reading books, playing cards.
May 31, 1928.
He was somewhere around 13, 14, 15 years old when he is in Terezin.
The Rabbi says children were sent at age 14 to Auschwitz; children under 16 were killed upon arrival. Was this his fate?
Young boys of that age were involved in producing plays and publishing magazines filled with poems and stories and drawings. Did he help with one of the many magazines we have seen over the course of the days, on walls of museums?
The able bodied were forced to do hard labor – digging trenches to redirect the river, building Nazi weaponry in underground mines, digging mass graves for their friends and family. Is this how he finished his life?
Thousands of men, women, and children never made it out of Terezin because of the deplorable living conditions and high disease rates?Did he die in his mother's arms? His father's? Did they die in his arms?
Did they ever see each other in Terezin?
A few hundred children survived. A tree stands in the Terezin cemetery where the descendants of these children meet annually. We don't actually know what happened. Would I find distant relatives of mine there?
Since our trip to Terezin, our class has had the opportunity to listen to two Holocaust survivors. One, Pavel Stransky, defied fate multiple times and managed to survive for almost three years in Auschwitz. Both he and the artist Helga Weiss-Hošková went through Terezin. Both survivors had phenomenal stories. They were, quite simply, lucky to survive – neither could truly explain why or how it happened. It seemed, honestly, like neither had even managed to figure out why they had been allowed to live while their friends and family survived. And both told their stories as if it wasn't something that had actually happened to them, as if they had no personal experience with it at all. I can only assume that they have put their emotions in a box, separate from their memories, in order to share their memories and stories with us.
And yet, somehow, I am hit by the emotion of it while they sit stoic. It is as if they have passed the emotion onwards, in order that the next generation may remember. In fact, Pavel explicitly said that his main job now, as a survivor, is to pass his story on to the next generation so that the stories and memories may live on forever in our collective memory. I only wish that my grandfather could have added his story too. I don't even know if he knew the story himself; it is possible that he never found out at all.
And even if I do find out someday, I know there is no way to really understand what my family went through. The reality of the history of the Holocaust is incomprehensible, but I know that it is a part of my history that I know nothing about. I don't know if I want to know, and that's an issue I'm going to be struggling with for at least the next few months; maybe the rest of my life.


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