I was recently privileged to read an autobiography that my friend translated for her late father. He was an artist in Estonia and Germany during the second world war. The man's adventures helped me remember that, in war, not every person on one side is evil and every person the other other is angelic. Wars aren't like that. Life isn't like that.
Reading the story reminded me of one about my own dad. He was also an artist but lived his entire life in Indiana and struggled to make a living as a dry cleaner who did art on the side.
During WW II my dad ran the laundry and dry cleaners at Fort Benjamin Harrison in Lawrence, Indiana, just outside Indianapolis. At that time there were hundreds of German and Italian POWs working at the Fort. Some of them worked in the laundry. My dad became good friends with a German POW named Gunther.
After the war Gunther was sent back to Germany. Later on my dad sponsored him to immigrate back to the United States. Looking back, I'm amazed that he went through all of the steps to get this accomplished.
Gunther did return and worked again with my dad at Belleview Cleaners in Indianapolis. (This was before my dad opened his own dry cleaners in the inner city that he named Fine Art Cleaners where he displayed his oil paintings in the window.)
Gunther visited our house many times over the years. One day he brought a woman by for us to meet. He eventuality married her.
I vaguely remember the day we picked up Gunther at the bus station when he first returned to the states. He hugged my dad so hard that he cracked a rib.
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