Rose and Louis -- in the New York Daily News

     The article below was published Tuesday (June 26) on the op-ed page of the New York Daily News, and it is centered on my parents, particularly Mom.
     It is about the Holocaust -- and today's world, today's America. It is about the President's rhetoric and policies, OK.
     I suggest you put your political beliefs aside as you read this. Perhaps you cannot do that, but it is about Rose and Louis, so give it a try.
     This is written by Brandon Friedman, co-founder and chief executive officer of The McPherson Square, a public relations firm based in Washington, D.C.
      Here is why Friedman is aware of my parents: He was born and raised in Shreveport, he graduated from LSU-Shreveport and he has a master's degree from University of Texas.
       What many of my readers might not approve of: He served in the Obama Administration. What they will approve of: He served -- with some distinction -- in the U.S. Army, a rifle platoon leader in Afghanistan and Iraq.
        (I was alerted to the article by Lisa Nicoletti, professor of art history and visual studies at Centenary College, guiding force of the Holocaust studies there, and -- with husband Steve -- great friend to my parents. We thank her -- again.)
      The article:
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     What 'Never Again' Holocaust educators would say now about civility and fascism

     By Brandon Friedman
     As a kid, I was surrounded by people who went on and on about “Never Again.”

     Holocaust survivor and educator Rose Van Thyn was one of those. She spoke to classes often, and what I remember about each time she visited my school over the years was the conviction in her voice — as if she really believed it could happen here.

     Rose was sincere. She had been through a lot. Like the others, she had a number tattooed on her arm. She was a survivor of Auschwitz.

     Still, I took her warnings with a grain of salt. I think all the kids did. No one really believed her. Because that had happened a long time ago. It was Europe. And this is America.

     Nevertheless, Rose spent her entire adult life in north Louisiana warning anyone who would listen. She never stopped. Then her husband Louis, also a Holocaust survivor, died in 2008. She died two years later.

     I didn’t hear about their deaths. Life had gone on. I had grown up and I was busy. I found out when I googled it this week.

     And then something occurred to me: Like the Van Thyns, many of the most famous Holocaust educators and Nazi hunters have died in recent years.

     Simon Wiesenthal, the most famous Nazi hunter, died in 2005. Elliot Welles, who the New York Times called an “indefatigable Nazi hunter,” died in 2006. Tuviah Friedman, who helped track down Adolf Eichmann, died in 2011. Elie Wiesel, the author of “Night,” died in 2016.

     I bring this up because we’re in the midst of a national discussion about “civility” in the face of authoritarianism. And in all this talk about civility in America’s political discourse, it occurred to me that the passing of Rose’s generation has left us extraordinarily vulnerable. In fact, I don’t think today’s resurgent fascism — and the dark enthusiasm that animates it across America — is coincidence.

     Rose was a tiny woman, but she was unrelenting. She was not violent, but she was also not willing to negotiate with a racist ideology. She knew that going along just to get along made things worse — not better.

     Her fellow survivors were the same. They knew that calls for civility in the face of oppression had been used as a weapon against them. And they knew what we took for granted.

     They knew that Nazis weren’t an aberration. They were regular people. Your friend. Your neighbor. Your uncle who forwards racist memes.           They knew that Nazis are what happens when hate goes unchecked by polite people who fear confrontation.

     They also taught us is that dictatorships and genocide don’t happen all at once. They don’t start with extermination camps. They start when vulnerable classes of people are blamed for society’s problems. They start with state propaganda.

     They start with the encouragement of violence at political rallies. They start when elected leaders call the press the “enemy of the people.” And they start when people don’t push back forcefully and publicly — early and often.

     As with any cancer, the time to stop creeping fascism is not after the arrests and the killings begin. By then, it’s too late. The time to stop fascism is when the President calls some Nazis “very fine people.” That’s the time, before it metastasizes and spreads further.

     President Trump has called for his followers to “knock the crap out of” political opponents. He threatened this week to suspend due process for immigrants. He said immigrants “infest” America — a literal use of Nazi terminology. Meanwhile, the government he runs is holding children hostage in cages until their Mexican and Central American parents agree to deportation.

     I don’t think I fully understood the urgency of Rose Van Thyn’s warnings when I was younger. But now that I’m older, I understand power. I know that human nature doesn’t change. Most importantly, I know that when a leader flouts the rule of law and begins “othering” minorities, the time for civility is over.

     What does that mean? In my view, political analyst Josh Berthume said it best yesterday: “Racists, misogynists, homophobes, bigots, fascists, and every single one of their enablers should feel the sting of shame and ridicule. When their behavior is not challenged, it is encouraged.”

     That’s a sentiment every Nazi hunter would get behind, and I share it. We must shun these people back into the shadows. It’s the only way to ensure that what Rose experienced does, in fact, never happen again.
Friedman has spent 17 years in politics and government, including time as an Army infantry officer in Iraq and Afghanistan.

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Bio links:
http://www.mcphersonsquaregroup.com/brandon-friedman
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brandon_Friedman
  

We have been on the move

     Had to wait a couple of days for this: Thank so many of you for your birthday/Father's Day messages. Think I hit the 300-plus mark on messages.

     There was a reason for the thank-you delay: We moved.

     If there was any doubt that we are now senior citizens -- you did not really doubt that, did you? -- it now is official.

     We now live in a "retirement community" (which means senior citizens). And we are happy about it.
     This was Bea's dream. Over the past five years, skeptical me became convinced this was the right thing to do.
      So this move is my 71st birthday and my Father's Day present this year.

The view from our sixth-floor patio looking southeast in Fort Worth.

      Our new home is on the edge of downtown Fort Worth, a complex of three high-rise buildings -- and it is a well-respected, highly recommended and well-run facility.
     We visited here -- by invitation -- more than a couple of times and became more and more convinced this was the right community for us. So, yes, I was recruited.
      It is our 16th move in 41 years together -- it has been a long road, folks -- and we are 99 percent sure it is our last one.
     The apartment we just left, near the Trinity River and Colonial Country Club (about 100 yards across the river from the fourth green), was almost new when we moved in eight years ago. We liked it, but it is not so new now. We lived there longer than any place in our time together.
     Moving in here -- sixth floor, in the original of the three buildings -- we have had to downsize considerably. But we have been doing that for years. 
     What that forces is to choose practicality over sentimentality; we let go of things we had for decades. For instance, I had clippings, photos and magazines/newspapers from way, way back. They are gone. Copied what I could into computer files.
     But we came into a completely scrapped and then refurbished apartment. Everything is new. 
     That was one incentive. Also, health care is a top priority here, with an extensive program and facilities. And there is a long-term financial guarantee.
     Sure, it is costly. Honestly, I did not think we could do it. But with the guidance of our financial advisor and the help of our sales rep here (the can-do-it-all Gretchen Lincoln), it became doable.
     Some expenses -- such as utilities -- were cut. And because transportation is provided in many instances, we are not going to need our car as often, and eventually plan to do without it. (If we need to rent a car for trips, there is a rental company within five minutes.) 
     We have found the management staff and workers here so competent and cooperative. And the people in the community have been overwhelmingly welcoming these first three days.
     Lots of older people here; yesterday I met a woman who is 97 and a man in his mid-90s, both residents here for more than 20 years. 
     So we are among the younger residents  and we think, we hope, we can be helpful here. A number of residents are not-yet-retired doctors and attorneys and many others carry on busy lives outside this community.
     I will not be the biggest baseball fan here. One fairly new resident is baseball royalty -- a New York Yankees World Series star, high-ranking baseball executive who has had a rich, full life of excellence in medicine, too.                
     There is a general store in the building, workout facility, a heated indoor swimming pool, all sorts of exercise and wellness areas, a library, an office-type workroom, rooms for visiting (with card games and puzzles), and there are many scheduled activities (shopping trips, speakers, exercise, special occasions).

      Bea already is set to work in "white elephant" monthly sales shop (clothes, furniture, knick-knacks, etc.); various book clubs are available; and Bea wants to start a coloring (book) club.
     We can walk -- if the weather is decent -- to the YMCA where we exercise 3-4 days a week and the Fort Worth Central Library -- a frequent stop for us -- is across the street from the Y. 

      If, long-term, we need a car for trips, a rental company is closeby. So are banks. So are big shopping areas; we already have tried that walk. And our new facility provided us with a shopping cart.

      Because we now have one bedroom, one bath and a smaller living area and kitchen, we carefully chose what to bring. 
      Moving is never easy, but we are experienced and Bea did most of the packing because one of us knows what they are doing.
      It is a new adventure, and it is exciting. The facility's assistant executive director, extending a welcome Tuesday, said, "You are on a cruise ship now. Enjoy it."

      We intend to enjoy it. Come see us.