Showing posts with label Paris. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paris. Show all posts

24 November 2011

An Update on "J", a Teenager During WW II

In April of 2006, I wrote a piece about "J". A lot of people seemed to enjoy this. I know that It was a fun thing for me to do. For the present reader, I would recommend having a look at this now. I always enjoy hearing stories of "J"'s youth and young adulthood in Paris and the areas adjacent during WW II. "J" is 87 years old now but still retains a lot of memories of those times, as a teenager and young woman. I recently had a chance to ask more questions of her.

I have just finished a book entitled "Paris" by Anthony Beevor and his wife, Artemis Cooper. It covers the years between 1944 and 1949. I found a lot of names that I recognized but knew very little about, so I thought of "J". I should say now that she and her husband have both had a share of health problems, and I found her thin and frail but still mentally sharp. Since the last visit with her, we have had an opportunity to visit her old Parisian home in a Paris suburb and could relate to her stories of Jewish neighbors who simply disappeared, the bomb shelter that was in their basement (and remains there today), and the small enclave that was her street. "J" still retains that house, but it will likely pass on for sale after she dies.

It was enlightening and fun to spend an hour or so with her. I started by asking her about Charles de Gaulle and her thoughts about him. From Beevor's book, I had gotten the idea that like him or not, most French people thought of him as a savior and the future of post-war France. Indeed, "J" was a Gaullist of the first order and agreed with me that had it not been for him, France might well have become a communist country. I was surprised to find that "J"'s father, an industrialist, used his factory as a haven for Jews, as well as others, who would have been deported to Nazi camps. By keeping them on as required workers, they were spared scrutiny by the Germans. She said that at first, the tales of concentration camps were not believed, but later it became evident that the stories were true. When the Germans left Paris, there were still a lot of French places, such as Alsace, where military actions took place with the Free French and the Allies fighting together against the Germans.

About this time, after her recovery from her back injury in the OSS "J"'s father wanted her to go to England, where he had business connections, so she spent almost four years in post-war London. In spite of the desolation of blitized city, the young people there had many social events and parties. She had spent some time in England before the fall of France, so she had English as a language already. Apparently, she took one of the last ships back to France before the Germans took the country. She lived in a boarding house in London until another lady invited her to share her apartment. She endured rationing as everyone did, but despite this she had a good experience. Her next journey was, of all places, to Argentina. Her Godmother had properties in that country, so they traveled to South America on a freighter, making many stops on the way. In Argentina, the Godmother's property had been illegally sold to other people, courtesy of a crooked lawyer. This occasioned "J"'s return to Europe.

After all this, she wound up going to Engelberg to get away from the destruction all over Europe. There, she stayed in a hotel owned by her future husband's family, met him, and they have been married over sixty years. They still have an apartment in the village there. She tells me that there are many old photos that she can share with me. I hope to be able to see and scan these for a future blog. To say that "J" has had a historical life is an understatement.

19 April 2010

Gigli Eats a Bit of Crow

Some of you know that I am not much of a Francophile. I don't know why. I have French ancestors, a French name, and I have had some great excursions to Province, Grenoble, Lyon, and Normandy. Regardless of this, I have never had an urge to see Paris. I have often disparaged the city as sidewalks covered with dog poopage, surly people, French snobs, etc.

It was a source of conflict for me when two of my grandchildren wanted to come to Paris on their spring break and requested that Barbara and I meet them for a week in The City of Light. Without a believable way to cop out, I agreed, and off we went. The TGV ride from Basel to Paris was like greased lightening. We had booked a hotel around the corner from what was to be our apartment for a week, so we could meet the USA contingent there the next morning. In past French visits, my severely deficient French had always served me well. It was true in all of Paris, that if one opened a conversation with a bit of their language, they were happy to speak with you in yours, if they could.

I found the service in the stores and restaurants at least comparable with that in any tourist mecca. That was never more evident in the many open markets that Paris has. On more than one occasion, a person waiting with us would also offer their assistance in translating. The same was true on the streets when looking at a map, etc.

I was surprised to hear and see German both written and occasionally spoken in Paris, once occupied by the Nazis. I frequented a small bakery close to the apartment and usually used a French word or gesture to communicate. On one day, I misspoke a few words of German. To my surprise, the young lady clerk spoke back to me in German! She spoke both German and English but was better at English.

We enjoyed the usual tourist spots such as the Eiffel Tower, The Lourve, and other attractions. These would be a shame to miss, but for the most part are best seen once in my opinion. Everyone should do these things, but many such as the tower are best enjoyed from a distance. The Champs Elysees was a favorite for people watching and widow shopping, but since the rents are over 100,000 dollars a month, the prices are a bit high for my tastes. The avenue does make Zurich's Bahnhofstrasse look a bit small time.

Would I go back to Paris? Sure I would if given the same circumstances. One must understand that I was with some of the people who are treasures of my life. If not, then I still might go back, but only after some other things on my list. Another trip to Normandy, another trip to Berlin, more of Austria and Bavaria, and last but not least, Ireland. If I went back to Paris, I likely wouldn't do so much of the tourist thing. I would spend more time in the side streets and by-ways.

Anyway, I hope crow will BBQ well, since I have the grill fired up.