The Forbidden Daughter, page 19
I hope you’re all healthy and that I’ll hear from you soon. With us, everything could’ve been fine if Dick felt better. He’s very nervous and usually his head aches or his stomach hurts or he’s unable to sleep. If he took his medicines, it would help him, but he doesn’t. One day he takes the pills and two days not and I try to get by so that no one will feel my difficulties.
Leah looks at me with pitying eyes and asks, “Tell me, how are you?” “Everything is fine,” I reply. And I feel lonely. My life is a strange life. I have to be brave, try not to let the kids notice anything. Now that I know nothing will make a difference, it’s easier for me to come to terms with the situation. And the situation is living with a sick person, who is difficult to communicate with, who doesn’t know what’s happening to him, and especially that I’m alone. Now I know that his behavior is caused by the disease and is not under his control. What can I do? The difficulty is the loneliness, but nonetheless, I bear the burden. I hope people don’t notice anything. Meanwhile, I say that everything is fine. He doesn’t know Hebrew, which is easier because he doesn’t say his strange words in their language. I hope that with the help of the medication he’ll calm down and be able to work.
The kids are fine. The older ones don’t speak Hebrew yet. It’s little Tony who already knows a few words. The children treat each other and me well. Their behavior is very touching. What’s new with you? Write to us, you must understand that times are not easy, and I’m alone. Letters will help.
In some of the letters she sent later, she was more optimistic. In one letter to her parents, she wrote:
I am much stronger and braver than I expected myself to be. The children help a lot, and the family members who visit us often are good to us and show us warmth. This improves our situation here.
In another letter, she added:
What manages to encourage me are the family members—the Merkel family, my aunt, my cousins Avigdor and Zipi. They visit us, host us, and give me a sense of family. Yocheved Ruhin is also in touch with us. She is very attached to little Tony, and he lets her hug him and kiss him. I feel mostly great pity for her, no more than that. The condition of the children is not bad. Please write about everything, even trifles. Everything interests us. We all miss you.
Elida maintained a close relationship with Pete and Melena. She always regarded them not only as relatives but also as good friends, secret partners, people she could turn to in times of distress. She wrote to them about the problems with Dick that she was trying to hide from the rest of the family. In a letter from July 1973, she recounted her difficulties:
As you can imagine, not everything is as smooth as Dick writes to you. The truth is that things are very difficult. I had to hospitalize Dick for a few days so that his medications, which he refuses to take, could be balanced. At first, I was hesitant about calling a doctor, but when he started raving, I had no choice. There’s a doctors’ strike here now, and I went through hell to persuade him to be hospitalized. In the meantime, a preliminary loan has arrived from the Weizmann Institute and terms for negotiating Dick’s employment at the institute. I don’t know who can help me. As I mentioned, I refrain from sharing the problem with my family members here. I hope Dick’s hospitalization is temporary and the doctors will find a way to get him out of his situation.
A few days later, Dick was released from the hospital, as his health condition had improved, and this lifted Elida’s mood as well. Nonetheless, she was the more realistic of the two. She wrote to Pete and Melena:
Dick’s condition is improving. He’s full of enthusiasm about everything around him and that doesn’t correspond to my own feelings. If you aren’t a Zionist, life in Israel isn’t easy. It’s difficult to enjoy everyday life if there’s no compensation in the essential things. I’m emptied of emotions. I’m not connected to my Judaism; this issue is less important to me. I’m more connected to the Western world. For me, living in the United States or England is more meaningful.
About four months after Elida and Dick arrived in Israel, the Yom Kippur War broke out. It was a turbulent time for everyone. In a phone call to his Israeli relatives during the early days of the war, Lazar groaned in tears, “How many more wars will my child have to go through?”
Because of the war, Elida and Dick’s plans were put on hold. In the meantime, they remained in Haifa. It was actually this difficult wartime period that imbued them with a sense of belonging to Israel. In her letters, Elida emphasized her identification with everything that was happening and her pain. She wrote in one letter:
You all know the situation in the country. Times are tough now for our family. All the children have been recruited and we identify with them but unfortunately, we can do nothing. In Haifa, everything is quiet. The children are on the Sukkot vacation. The older kids understand what’s going on here. Aggie drew a large sign: “Israel wins the war.” The little one knows that when he hears a siren, he must go to the “anti-bomb shelter.”
The people here are brave, and we thank God that the borders are far from the center. The feeling is strange, yet we feel our place is here. This is a very tense time but what is very difficult especially are the losses, the dead. The country is so small, and you feel that each dead soldier is a family member. It’s strange and hard to comprehend. It’s the rare ability of Israelis to demonstrate an appearance of normality in the most abnormal situation. We hope for an end to the war. For many reasons, for us it means that we can finally settle down.
In early December, the family moved into a three-bedroom rental apartment in Rehovot. The building was just a short walk from the Weizmann Institute. The older children acclimated to school in the city, and little Tony went to preschool. Elida began looking for work. After a month of searching, she was hired by the Ministry of Absorption at Lod Airport. Her knowledge of languages gave her an advantage in her new role: receiving new immigrants at their first stop in the country. How the wheel turns, she thought. Sixteen years ago, I was a newcomer and I needed help, and now I’m the helper. Elida was very happy about the opportunity that came her way.
Dick wrote a letter to his brother and sister-in-law about the improvement in Elida’s self-confidence when she started working. In one of his letters, he wrote:
Elida’s job enhances her ego and allows her to break free from the house and the four walls that have closed in on her. She also realizes that the children do not need her twenty-four hours a day. In general, the children are adapting wonderfully, and have become independent (in the Israeli style). They wake up on their own, make the beds, and prepare sandwiches for themselves. When they get back from school, they watch Tony. All this until we get back from work. It is very convenient that we are not dependent on a babysitter.
The family’s relationship with the cousins in Israel deepened, but still, there were problems. Elida wrote to Pete and Melena:
It hurts to write to you again with bad news. Dick was hospitalized again. They’re trying to balance his medication and cleanse him of the alcohol he drinks nonstop. In my dealings with the doctors, I don’t understand them properly. They talk to me in psychiatric terms, and I get lost both mentally and rationally. Let’s put the truth on the table. Dick hasn’t been healthy all year long. He has had better times but also worse ones. The fact that he is taking medication and drinking alcohol indiscriminately does not improve the situation. Please understand that I cannot continue in the current situation. The options I face are difficult and unsolvable.
One solution I’m currently considering is to go with the kids to Laredo, where they’ll get the love and care they need. But the problem is of course Dick. He cannot be left alone. He must have someone by his side. I don’t want to throw the problem at you, but I’d be very grateful if you could advise me what to do. Please don’t blame me if I leave. There is no question of guilt here. It’s a problem of three unfortunate children who cannot live in the situation of having an alcoholic father and I really cannot leave Dick alone. What will happen to him if I take him back to the U.S.? (Another possibility to consider.) What will happen to his work? Here he manages to work. I’m sorry to bother you but I’m not strong enough to carry it on my own—I’m waiting for your advice.
In June 1974, Lazar visited Israel. Dick was released from the hospital and his condition improved. Dick, and especially Elida, shared with Lazar the dilemma of whether to return to the U.S. or stay in Israel. It was finally decided that the children would fly to California and then to their grandparents in Texas.
The days before the flight were fraught with great tension between Elida and Dick. One evening, Dick and Elida sat down with their two older boys and told them they’d be staying in California for the summer vacation and that Mom would be coming too. In a month or two, maybe Dad would join them.
In another conversation, they told the children that they were about to separate because Elida wanted to return to the U.S. to live near her parents, while Dick was interested in staying in Israel. Dick took Aggie for a separate talk, explaining to him that he could choose whether he wanted to live in the U.S. with Mom or in Israel with Dad because that was the country Jews should live in.
As in previous crises, Elida and Dick managed to mend the rift between them. “If Dad gets a job in the U.S., we’ll all go back,” she told the children. “If not, we’ll all go back to Rehovot.”
Dick and Elida said goodbye to Aggie and John, who flew to Los Angeles to be with their uncle and aunt, Pete and Melena. “Be good and well-behaved children,” their mother whispered in their ears before they boarded the bus that took them to the plane.
The boys stayed with Pete and Melena for over a month and then went to Laredo to stay with Lazar and Toibeh. During that time, Tony remained with Elida and Dick. Toward the end of the summer vacation, Toibeh came to visit Elida and Dick and then took Tony back to Laredo with her. In a letter to Pete and Melena, Elida wrote:
A whole month has passed since the kids left home and I’ve never felt as lonely and sad. And now my mother, who was staying with us, has taken Tony with her to Laredo. Now that all three are there, I cannot find a place for myself.
Dick feels better. He’s calm and pleasant, as we know him to be. Meanwhile, another dilemma: I was promoted to the rank of supervisor at my job at the Ministry of Absorption. As a result, the nature of the work has changed. I will no longer work night shifts at the airport but my workday is in the morning and afternoon so I can be with the kids. Dick also has a lot of work to do at the Institute after a month away from it. My new job is challenging and requires much more responsibility. These developments have raised the question again: Should we return or stay here? Meanwhile, Dick is planning a vacation trip to Italy. A conference of biochemists is scheduled for early September. He really wants me to join him. The purpose of our trip to the conference is, in part, to meet his boss from Boston, who will be there as well. The developments cause us a lot of indecision, and neither of us is the decisive type.
Two weeks before leaving, Elida and Dick were still debating whether or not to return to Israel after reuniting with their children in the U.S. As noted in her letter to Pete and Melena, one of the reasons for the trip to Italy was to meet with Dick’s boss in order to explore the possibility of returning to Boston. Elida wrote in a letter to her parents:
We don’t yet rule out returning to Israel. Here, jobs are guaranteed for both of us. In the meantime, we plan to travel to Italy on Sept. 8 and stay there 10–12 days until the 20th. Later, I’ll have more precise details. I don’t want to leave the children as a burden to you for so long. I’ll come to you either in late September or early October. Kiss the children for me. My darlings, I appreciate everything you’re doing for the children.
IT STARTED AS A ROUTINE SEPTEMBER SUNDAY. THE GOLDBERG brothers and their children were planning to meet at Lazar and Toibeh’s home for a pool party. Toibeh stood in the kitchen with Maria and prepared food for the guests. The grandchildren, John and Aggie, were all over the house, quarreling and giggling alternately. They insisted on going out into the yard to see the pool filling up with water.
Suddenly the children heard Lazar cry: “Oi vey, oi vey! It can’t be! Dos ken nisht sein!”
Toibeh hurried over to him. “What happened?” She grabbed his hand and tried to stop him from pacing back and forth. Lazar pointed at the radio.
“The plane fell,” he murmured. “The plane fell!”
“What, what?” Toibeh shouted at him and turned the volume up.
The radio reported that a TWA plane had taken off from Israel, landed in Athens for a stopover, and then exploded immediately upon takeoff. Rescuers were trying to locate the remains of the plane off the coast of Greece. There were about one hundred and twenty passengers and crew on board.
“Dick and Elida were on this plane,” Lazar moaned. “Oh, Jonah! What have we done wrong in our lives?” he cried, evoking the name of Elida’s father. “Oh, Jonah!”
Toibeh watched him and gazed at the radio, unable to utter a word. The children had heard Grandpa’s screams and rushed in to see what had happened. Toibeh grabbed their hands and dragged them away.
“Be quiet!” she shouted at them in Yiddish and then asked them in English to go into Debbie’s room immediately. She then ordered Debbie to get out of bed and watch the children.
Toibeh hurried back to Lazar, who was standing with his hand on the telephone dial. “How do you know they were on that plane?” she shouted at him. “They flew El Al, not TWA,” she said hopefully.
“No, I talked to them yesterday. Elida told me she changed the tickets because the TWA flight would continue on to the U.S.” He kept shaking from side to side, choking on tears.
“And you’re sure they were flying today?” Toibeh asked, trying every possible chance.
But Lazar knew.
He started thinking about whom to call. The first to come to mind were the Katzmans in Los Angeles. But Toibeh grabbed the phone from him. “No! No!” she cried, and slammed the phone down. “First we need TWA to check whether they were among the passengers.”
The front doorbell rang. Maria opened and told Raoul and Angelina in Spanish that something terrible had happened. They hurried into the room and cried out in anguish when they heard what it was all about.
“Maybe they weren’t on the plane—they changed their plans so many times,” Toibeh said, trying to maintain a glimmer of hope.
But that last glimmer of hope was extinguished when the phone rang. Lazar, shaking all over, picked up the phone. He heard a hesitant female voice on the line. The woman introduced herself as a TWA representative. He listened in silence.
Angelina began to make arrangements. First, she had to get the kids out of the house. She called a mutual friend and asked her to come and take Elida’s three children for outdoor activities.
Debbie, who was beginning to grasp what was going on, could not be persuaded to leave the house. She had been eagerly awaiting Elida’s visit. She had worked hard to lose weight and even went to the hairdresser to get her hair done the way Elida loved it. Debbie’s feeling of grief and loss combined with her disappointment that her big sister would never get to see her new appearance.
The nephews who started arriving for the pool party were also sent home. Phone calls streamed in from the family in Israel. In Israel, they knew that Elida and Dick had been on that ill-fated plane.
Then came another phone call from the Katzman family. Pete was on the line. The airline had also called Dick’s family, confirming that Dick and Elida were on the plane that crashed into the sea off the coast of Greece, leaving behind only a trail of foam on the surface. Pete said he’d catch the next flight to Texas in order to be with Dick and Elida’s children.
An investigation into the disaster revealed that an explosive device had been planted in the plane by a terrorist.
Epilogue
FOR THIRTY-ONE YEARS, ELIDA LIVED AMONG us. She left three orphans, who were adopted by Pete and Melena. The three children live in the United States. John is married to Patricia, and they have two children. Alex and his wife, Shirley, also have two children. Tony has a son. One of the reasons I set out to write this book was so that Elida’s children and grandchildren would learn her full story. I am grateful to them for their help and understanding.
Writing Elida’s story took years of rummaging through books, perusing press clippings, conducting interviews with family members who lived with Elida, traveling to the stations of her life, flipping through albums, and discovering documents that sometimes surprised me. All of these helped me embroider her character and reveal the turning points in her life.
As Elida’s story came to light, my feelings of closeness and love for her grew ever stronger. During the writing process, I experienced much emotional turmoil, some of which I share below.
How do you tell a story about a father who handed over his newborn daughter? About a mother who washed her in tears? What strength these parents had to summon in order to tear themselves away from their daughter and place her in the care of strangers, even if it was the only path of hope for her?
While I was writing the story of the baby’s delivery, two of my children enriched me with two new grandchildren. I held them in my arms on my visit to the hospital, cradled them close to my heart, and anxiety flooded me. How do you hand over your child to strangers? I will never have an answer for that.
During my visits and meetings in the United States, I was given access to Toibeh and Lazar’s secret cabinet. I received a treasure trove of letters and photos from Elida’s life, including letters she wrote while she was with her family in Israel. The willingness of those closest to her to entrust all this to me touched my heart. Alex, Elida’s son, was especially supportive, and he soon became a full partner in discovering the hidden events in his parents’ lives.
We had a thrilling experience during a visit to Lithuania in July 2015. My husband and I traveled with Alex and his family to meet Stanislava’s daughter, Audra, who had been a sister to Elida on the farm in their childhood.
