Monthly Archives: August 2020

My face was resting on my hand as I awoke and the sharp metallic smell of solder flux on my fingers stung my nose. My bed, tucked into the corner of our flat that was our “kitchen”,  felt lumpy. I … Continue reading →

  Mama noticed my muddy shoes right away when I came home but she didn’t say anything. She probably thought that I had been in a park somewhere with Dita Roseman. After all I would be fourteen before long. It … Continue reading →

I hear the river whispering about the delta in the hiss of my blow torch.Tad loved to talk about the endless, mysterious plain of reed and water. He sounded more believable about this than about any of his other raves. … Continue reading →

    The path that led to the fisherman’s hut was a maze of high brown grass, reeds, and small dunes.  It was damp and cold, a hard, blustery wind was blowing from the north, from the Czechoslovak Reichs Protectorate. … Continue reading →

  In the evening, Cousin Walter came to our apartment pick up his briefcase. He is Aunt Tina’s youngest so twenty-two years old and fat. His mother, Mama’s sister, is held in high regard in our family because she married … Continue reading →

I like the smell of locksmith shops. That is how I  picked my course at the Jewish Apprentice Institute. That may seem crazy to most people. But that’s another story. Now at seven in the morning, I wasn’t so excited … Continue reading →

Editor’s note: My story “The Journey” will return in a few days. In the meantime, I am sharing with you a story that was written by my father that I am currently adding to. Some may consider this presumptuous but … Continue reading →

  The room was suddenly crowded. Richard and his two sons were joined by my brother in law Mark and his 8-year-old son Oliver who quickly launched himself into my arms. He is the spitting image of my Dad. Like … Continue reading →

The door to the office opened a crack and a head popped through.  “Kopfka. Can we come in/” Before I could answer, the door flung open and my oldest and best friend Richard Magrath walked in followed in short order … Continue reading →

  Through the window I could see my sister’s children, Cate age 12 and Oliver age 8, racing through the back yard laughing and giggling. Their laughter unleashing shades of summers past… my father napping in a macramé hammock strung … Continue reading →