A Survivor's Guide to Eternity(65)

“One day my mother came home with a torn dress, spattered in blood, limping and moaning. She slumped into the chair as my father and I rushed over to comfort her. We were in total shock. I hurried to the bathroom to get her plasters, towels, and antiseptic. She was distraught and pushed us away as we tried to help, sobbing with a pain I never knew could be possible. It transpired that she had been cornered by a small group of thugs who taunted and abused her, beat her and raped her over and over in a dirty alley, leaving her for dead, bleeding and crying.

“It was a tragedy from which she would never recover. She was completely ruined and finally killed herself less than a month later. Before she did though, she told me all about her time in America and how my grandfather and great grandfather had both been slaves and the suffering that entailed. She didn’t want me to know about all that negativity previously. Were it not for the fact that this devastating attack had happened, I doubt I would have ever known. She hated persecution and bullying so much and after her stories I really got to understand why.”

“That’s terrible,” replied Ed with concern as they continued along the long tunnels, a faint breeze brushing over their faces soothingly.

“I was mortified by the whole situation, the prejudice, the hatred. How could people be so incredibly violent and brutal to an innocent person just because they’re different? It just didn’t make sense to me at all. My father and I both responded in completely different ways. He became terrified, a shell of the man he previously was. Everything that happened was a cause for concern and scared him more until one day he went off and without ever really understanding what he was doing, joined the Nazi party. I remember so clearly that day he came home in the uniform, starched collars and perfectly shining boots as if clean boots cleaned a soul. His eyes were glazed over and he went straight upstairs without a word. By the next morning I had left, along with a small suitcase with a few clothes and basics in it. I had no idea which way to turn. The whole environment was getting more and more radical by the week and I knew I had to get off the street as quickly as I could.”

“It must have been so painful? Why on earth would he have done that?” interjected Ed sympathetically.

“I don’t know. I’ll never understand that. Anyway, I had the idea of going down to the local Synagogue. I was shocked to find it covered in abusive graffiti and swastikas. The walls were charred with the signs of failed petrol bomb attacks and the broken windows were barely visible from the protective boards nailed in place haphazardly. I knocked and knocked at the door but there was no reply. I waited there for absolutely ages until by chance a young girl of about fifteen came past and ushered me along the side path, through some boxes and barriers and into a side door.

“Once inside I could see the main prayer room was barely a quarter full, maybe thirty or forty people. They called me over and gave me a hot drink, sat me down and continued their debate about escaping the city and leaving their possessions and properties to be ransacked. The debate went on and on, trying to unravel the impossible and unbelievable situation that was enveloping them. Round and round in circles they went, what will they do to us? How could that be humanly possible? Surely the human beings we have been living side by side with for generations could not even think of letting that happen? Sadly it was a grim reality and when bricks and bottles once again started to rain down on the building, logic took control and they agreed they needed to get out and find ways to hide people until it all died down.”

“It must have been such a shocking realisation. Had you ever imagined that could have happened?”

“Never in a million years. My mother had preached understanding and love. Accept and tolerate, never react and aggress. She was a fine teacher and even in these extreme circumstances, I felt strong.”

“You’re such an inspiring person,” replied Ed respectfully.

“Thanks. Necessity is the mother of pain management, eh! Anyway, I converted to Judaism right there and then. I begged them to let me in. They were reluctant and said it wasn’t a simple ceremony but I pleaded that I wanted to share their plight religiously, not just because I was black but because I supported them with all my heart. After some while, the Rabbi conceded and did some sort of very quick ceremony whilst the bricks thudded on the building. Then they sewed a yellow star on my jacket, and I was united with them in their suffering. The missiles continued to fall until we heard a loud noise at the front door of the synagogue. All of a sudden it just caved in and a tatty open-top car burst through. Two middle aged men leapt from the car and opened fire with some sort of rapid firing rifle.