Wednesday, Nov. 24, 1943
I like to picture us pulling up today to my grandparents Victorian-era white clapboard home in Connecticut. I like to picture Lois’ parents running out to greet us and meeting me for the first time. I am the first grandchild – a newcomer to be celebrated. What I wouldn’t know for many decades was that my grandparents’ own relatives in Lithuania had been gunned down by Nazis and Lithuanian collaborators just a few years earlier, their bodies dumped in a ditch. What pain there must have been in my grandmother’s heart as she looked down at me. I was the hope for a better life in a country that had welcomed them. Well, maybe not with open arms – but had at least given them time and space to build new lives. Will Americans today do the same?