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My parents on their wedding day, August 1, 1914. The day World War I broke out.
They were the happiest and most loving couple I have ever encountered.
From them I learned to love people and the world around me.
My mother perished in the Holocaust.
My father survived the war and died peacefully in Tel Aviv in 1966.
My father. He was a very active Menshevik in the Russian Revolution. He knew Lenin and Trotzsky and many other revolutionary leaders. In 1917 when the Bolsheviks took power in Russia, then condemned him to death.
He managed to escape to Lithuania, where he met my mother, fell in love, and married.
From my father I learned that the only hope for mankind is the "Brotherhood of Man," irrespective of race or color.
Pola, my wife. We married in Tel Aviv, Israel. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.
She is my love, my friend, my life companion.
We dream together, work together, travel together. I can't remember a day separated. She is also the best critic when it comes to my writing.
My daughter Leora. She came late in our life, but was such a blessing. She too is not only my daughter, but also my friend.
Photographed in Munich , 1946, a year after I was liberated by the US army.
I am 17 years old here. I was still filled with the euphoria of escaping from Hitler's hell.
