The Last Witness (37 page)

“She wanted to change that and any student who was lucky enough to have her for a teacher was sure to learn their history. All of us should know history because to understand the present you have to understand the past. And we should learn about the good things as well as the bad because this is where we come from and this is how we learn from our mistakes. I am a
hundred years old and one thing I know is that people who don’t learn from their mistakes are destined to repeat them. It is the story and legacy of the human race.

“For those few years that Christine taught history at Williamsburg Senior Public School she was always fighting with her school board. They didn’t want her to teach about the Holocaust. Some of them didn’t even think the Holocaust happened. Now I’m not talking about the Great Holocaust of 2029 which was only ten years ago. More than fifty thousand people … innocent people … were killed in that terrible episode and the children of all those victims deserve better than to have it forgotten. They deserve better. If we don’t tell people what happened then who in the year 2129 will believe it?

“They say I am the last living survivor of the Holocaust of the Jewish people from the last century. I may be and it brings me no pride. You see, the Holocaust has nothing to do with pride but everything to do with shame. I am an old man and some might even say wise. I don’t know about that but I have learned a bitter lesson from my great-granddaughter and it’s this. We ignore the past at our own peril.”

Jack raised his head and looked over to Emily Silver and the Mayor, and then he looked out at all the faces before him. In the front row were the people from Emily’s organization. The offspring of Holocaust survivors. One row back were Lieutenant Jack Hodgson and Kathy Sottario of the NYPD. Near the two of them were Mary Lou Bennett from the Greenwich Village Seniors Center, along with some of the residents – Eric, Linda, Fred, Patricia, Rachel. His dinner mates. Jack saw his son Ralph and his family, and he saw Christine’s parents, her sister and her little niece.

As he took in the members of his family, he was thinking what a great victory it was to be here with all his descendants. That is exactly what it was. A victory. His eyes began to well up and for a moment he couldn’t speak. But he wasn’t finished.

Hodgson saw the difficulty he was in and stood up on his feet. Like Jack, he had a cane with him. He called Jack’s name and said to wait. Mary Lou Bennett also got up. The two of them marched to the podium and joined Jack behind the lectern. Standing on either side of him, they each put an arm around him.

“Good afternoon everyone,” said Mary Lou. “My name is Mary Lou Bennett and I’m the Director of Care at the Greenwich Village Seniors Center where Jack lives.” She turned to Jack. “I’m sorry to interrupt but we have a little surprise for you.”

She pointed to the very back where a group of children were now standing.

“Jack, these are Grade 8 students and I know your great-granddaughter Christine also taught Grade 8. These students are beginning a new segment in their studies today. They are starting their history program. Their teacher thought it would be a good idea for them to have their very first class here so they could listen to you.”

Jack wanted to say something, but could only mouth ‘thank you’ because the words wouldn’t come. Hodgson gave him a hug and people started to clap. Then Hodgson spoke.

“I am Lieutenant Jack Hodgson of the NYPD. Over the past few weeks I have come to know Jack Fisher very well and I can tell you he is one of the most remarkable people I have ever met. He is a courageous man and a man of great dignity. I am honored to call him my friend. Oh I almost forgot.”

With that, he stuck a hand into his pocket and pulled out a coin. The
chervonets
.

“I believe this belongs to you.”

Jack wrapped his fingers around it and pressed it to his chest.

“And now,” said Hodgson, “I know Jack wants to finish reading his article to you from the local paper where his great-granddaughter once worked. She wrote the obituaries in this paper. It’s called
The Reflector
. Jack lost her a few weeks ago in a horrible tragedy.”

A hush descended on the gathering. Hodgson and Mary Lou knew all along what Jack was planning to do. With both of them at his side, he returned to his article, clutching the
chervonets
in his hand.

“I have learned a bitter lesson from my great-granddaughter and it’s this,” Jack said. “We ignore the past at our own peril. I might be a hundred years old but the little boy Jacob Klukowsky who was a hidden child in the ghetto and who was sent to the death camp at
Auschwitz
still lives in this frail body. His memories live. His love for his mother and his father lives. His love for all the murdered members of his family lives. And this is what it’s all about. The value of a single human life.

“Christine once said that if they made a movie about me it should be called
Indifference
because indifference is how the world treats the memory of six million Jews who were killed by the Nazis a hundred years ago. The world has forgotten them. Some people don’t even want to believe this crime ever happened.

“On the last day of her life Christine went to a place she loved and tried to do something she wanted to do ever since she was a little girl. She wanted to stand up on a railing so she could look out over this great natural wonder called the Elora Gorge and see how beautiful the world can be. The beauty that only a child of four can see. A world with birds and trees and rivers. A world where there is no misery and no suffering and no misfortune. I was denied these things when I was four years old and I take solace from the fact that my little Christine wasn’t. She was
a courageous person who fought the scourge of indifference with everything she had. She even gave her life for it.

“Christine Fisher was born in 2014 and she died in 2039. But it was the world’s indifference that killed her. She was a child of the Holocaust.”

Author’s Note

My father used to take me to the local Jewish bakery where this kindly woman behind the counter would serve us. I remember seeing numbers on her arm, but I was just a boy and didn’t know what those numbers meant. Later I found out. One day in the not too distant future there is going to be one person left. One survivor. This is what
The Last Witness
is about. I want to thank a number of people who were helpful to me in my research. The ‘readers’ who offered valuable advice and comments on my early drafts include Ray Argyle, John Robert Colombo, Jennifer Dale, Barry Lane and my good friend Cam Campbell who took time to read when he was suffering from ill health but wouldn’t live to see the final product. Special thanks must go to real-life child survivors of the Holocaust – Anna Cheszes, Anita Ekstein, Etti Miller, Jack Veffer, Gershon Willinger, Miriam Ziegler and her husband Roman, the other members of their group at the Baycrest Centre in Toronto, and social workers Paula David and Peggy Solomon who allowed me to intrude on these most intimate gatherings. Elly Gotz is another survivor who provided key details and facts that helped me make my flashbacks as accurate as possible. I also want to thank technology wizard Chris Kata for showing me what the near future is going to look like, Jack Jebwab for revealing the sad state of Holocaust knowledge, my agent Ken Atchity for having faith in me and my work, all those who read the manuscript prior to publication and did reviews, and eminent historian Sir Martin Gilbert for being so kind and helpful when I told him about my idea. Lastly, I want to thank my wife Dorothy for her understanding when I disappeared for long stretches of writing and research to explore this most deadly time of human history. It is something we must never forget.

Dear Reader,

Without you none of this would be possible, so I want to thank you for reading my work and I would be eternally grateful if you would take a minute or two to review the book on Amazon. No matter what authors tell you, we do want to know what our readers think.

Sincerely,

Jerry Amernic

Jerry Amernic

Jerry Amernic is a writer who lives in Toronto. He has been a newspaper reporter and correspondent, newspaper columnist, feature writer for magazines, teacher of journalism, and media consultant. Alas, while wearing all these hats he has suffered from a chronic condition which he calls his ‘fiction addiction’. It is fed by his insatiable appetite for history and then by inserting the characters he creates into the story. His first novel,
Gift of the Bambino
, was published in 2004 and will soon be re-released as an e-book.
The Last Witness
is his second published novel, and very soon another historical thriller called
Qumran
will be released, to be followed next year by
Medicine Man
.