Posts tagged Odd Nansen

Third Royalty Checks Go Out

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I am pleased to announce that the third distribution of royalty checks has just been made.  As I explained in earlier posts (here and here), I determined at the outset of my journey with From Day to Day that any royalties derived from the sale of Nansen’s diary would go to a charity or charities that Odd Nansen would have approved of were he still alive.  Following consultations Nansen’s daughter Marit Greve, we agreed that 50% would go to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, in DC, and 50% to HL-Senteret, The Center for Study of the Holocaust and Religious Minorities, in Oslo.

The fiscal year ending June 30, 2018 was a particularly strong year for sales of From Day to Day—in fact the best year in sales so far, and the royalties I received reflected this performance.  In addition, although I do not charge a speaking fee for my presentations, this past year several organizations generously provided me with an honorarium for my services.  Since these were unexpected, I have, as in years past, decided to include them in my distributions as well.  With these latest checks, to date such distributions total over $9,734.00.

As always, all of the above would never have been possible without the assistance of so many people who helped me along the way—by making introductions, suggesting speaking venues, recommending my work, organizing events themselves, providing much needed hospitality, etc.  To all of you I owe a debt which can never be fully repaid.  But I salute you for your help, and wish you all the very best that 2019 can offer.  Here is but a partial list of those who went above and beyond the call of duty the past year: Tese Stephens (again!), Harry Goodheart, Ron Myrvik, Kathy Aleš (again!), Morgan Jordan (again!), Ginny Bear, Dick Kuhn, Kaye Wergedal, Mary Beth Ingvoldstad, Kris Leopold (again!), Kathryn O’Neal, Ken Fagerheim, Judy Gervais Perkiomaki, Graydon Vanderbilt, Susan Navrotsky, Jeanne Addison, Siri Svae Fenson, Philip Humphries and Cynthia St. Clair, and last but not least, my old friend and legal colleague Peter Hapke.

I also want to recognize those who took the time to write positive reviews of Nansen’s diary for sites such as Amazon—your help is deeply appreciated.

I’m sure that I have overlooked many equally deserving of recognition, and hope you will forgive the oversight, and allow me to use Odd Nansen’s own words: “Honor to them all for their share.”

Odd Nansen’s Birthday (12/6/01)

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Odd Nansen

Today is the 117th anniversary of Odd Nansen’s birth on December 6, 1901.

Each year I try to commemorate his anniversary with a pithy statement or quote that encapsulates the kind of person Nansen was.  In previous years I have quoted noted Holocaust survivor and writer Primo Levi (here), and Holocaust survivor and historian H.G. Adler (here).

This year’s quote comes from Eric Sevareid.  Most members of my (baby boomer) generation know him from his days as a commentator on the CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite.  That’s how I came to know him, while still in elementary school, and I loved his trenchant, eloquent commentaries, even if the subject matter was sometimes well above my head.

What most people might not know is that Sevareid was from Norwegian stock.  As Sevareid writes in his autobiography, Not So Wild a Dream, “Christmas dinner was never right for [my father] without lutefisk and lefse, and Pastor Reishus always preached first in Norwegian, then in English.”  Sevareid was born in North Dakota, and lived for a while in my favorite ND city, Minot, before moving to Minneapolis.  Taking up journalism in college, he soon found himself as one of “Morrow’s Boys,” reporting on the war for CBS. In 1940 he was the first to report on the Fall of France.  As a broadcaster, Sevareid received numerous Peabody Awards and several Emmys, and was inducted in the Scandinavian-American Hall of Fame.

 On August 2, 1943, Sevareid was investigating the Assam-Burma-China Ferry Command’s air supply of Chiang Kai-shek’s army over the Himalayas when his plane crashed.  Miraculously, 21 of the 22 passengers and crew aboard the stricken plane managed to parachute safely into the jungle. The Americans were ultimately rescued by the British administrator in the region, Philip Adams.  Here is how Sevareid describes Adams in his autobiography:

“For me, he takes a place among the few rare men I have known, of limitless courage, unfettered mind, and controlled compassion for others—the great, lonely men, some in the spotlight, others in obscurity, who are everywhere and always the same, devoted coworkers in the difficult and dangerous conspiracy of goodwill.”

I’m pretty sure that if Eric Sevareid had ever had the chance to meet Odd Nansen, he would have included Nansen in that select fraternity as well.

Longing: The Story of the Bracelet

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“Apart from the already described reactions, the newly arrived prisoner experienced the tortures of other most painful emotions, all of which he tried to deaden.  First of all, there was his boundless longing for his home and his family.”   —Victor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning

Odd Nansen would certainly agree with Frankl’s observation.  In the second paragraph of his Foreword, Nansen explained that most of the “private matter” had been cut out of the published version of his diary, but not all: “I couldn’t cut it all out, I felt, without taking from the diary too much of its character. For it is the case that a prisoner thinks a great deal about his wife, his children, and home.”   Indeed, as I write in my Introduction, in many ways From Day to Day can be viewed as one long love letter to Nansen’s wife Kari.

Longing suffuses the entire diary.  “For more than a week, a fearful week, I had been looking forward to it [a meeting with Kari] and longing for it.” (May 7, 1942).  “Longing keeps us in life and hope.” (January 30, 1944).  In the very last diary entry Nansen wrote (April 27-28, 1945), he anguishes that “all I have been longing for for years with all my soul [seemed] more remote than ever.”

So, it was with great surprise that, during my recent visit to Oslo, Nansen’s granddaughter Anne Greve casually asked me if I knew the background to the bracelet she was wearing?  It was a simple silver bracelet, adorned with a common-looking brown stone (there were originally three such stones, but only one remains):

The bracelet

Inside the bracelet Nansen inscribed a simple, heartfelt message for his wife, on the occasion of their sixteenth wedding anniversary:

“Et Griniminne til dig fra mig/Vel ingen sjelden juvel/Men pant på at jeg elsker dig/Av hele min lengtende sjel/Din Odd/Grini 27-8-43”

A partial view of the bracelet’s interior

“A Grini memory to you from me/Well no rare jewel/But trust that I love you/With all my longing soul/Your Odd/Grini 27-8-43”

According to Anne, Nansen’s wife Kari wore it constantly throughout her life, and now Anne does as well:

Anne Greve modeling the bracelet

Readers of the diary know that the portion which covers August 27, 1943 was unfortunately lost, so we’ll never know what thoughts or feelings, if any, Nansen recorded on that date.  We do know what he wrote on the following anniversary, while in Sachsenhausen: “Sunday, August 27, 1944.  Our wedding day!  Seventeen years! . . .   Life has been good to us after all.  The wealth it has given us in these seventeen years no one can take from us.  It is of eternity and will never die, even though we should never meet again.”

A Special Visit to Norway

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I’ve just returned from a magical trip to Oslo, Norway to help celebrate the 90th birthday of Marit Greve, Odd Nansen’s eldest child.

The outbound voyage went without a hitch.  My airplane seat had a nifty video screen which showed my position in flight at all times.  I checked the flight stats while passing over Newfoundland (which is appropriate, as Newfoundland boasts the presence of L’Anse aux Meadows, the Vikings’ first settlement in the New World).  Altitude: 38,366 feet; temperature: -58°F.  I realized that even seven miles above the tundra of Newfoundland in November, the temperature was still warmer than some of the temps faced by Fridtjof Nansen during his polar exploration. Hats off to that man!

Oslo was rainy and cold upon arrival, and remained that way for the duration of the trip.  As Preben Johannessen, Marit’s son-in-law, reminded me in a ditty which he claims he learned from Marit:

No Sun/No Moon/No Dawn/No Noon/No-vember.

But, as the Norwegians are quick to point out, there is no bad weather, just the wrong clothes, and so I, and everyone else in Oslo, just powered through. What was a bit more difficult to overcome was that sunrise (per the weather app, not personal experience) was 8:14 am and sunset at 3:47 pm—this more than a month before the winter solstice.

As mentioned, the highlight of the trip, indeed its primary purpose, was to celebrate Marit’s birthday—she turned 90 on November 8.   Marit was born in Brooklyn, NY, in 1928, and I maintain that, if you listen very carefully, you can still detect a Brooklyn accent trying to be heard under her Norwegian lilt.

Marit appears many times in Odd Nansen’s World War II diary.  On her birthday in 1944 Nansen recorded this:

“Marit’s Birthday.  When I was arrested, she was only just thirteen and a little girl.  Now she is sixteen and a woman.  It’s strange.  She herself assures me so sweetly and eagerly, in the letter I had from her, that she hasn’t grown away from me.  But the whole letter shows that she has.  Poor little Marit, she can’t help it.  And besides it’s not to oblige their parents that children live their lives.  But all the same I miss you badly, my little “fishergirl,”* and if you sometimes miss your daddy too, my wish is only that it may be a blessing for us both.”

I can relate that seventy-four years later, Marit still hasn’t grown away from her father.

Fittingly, the birthday party was held on the deck of the Fram, the ship which Marit’s grandfather, Fridtjof Nansen, had constructed in 1892 to carry him to, and over, the polar ice cap. (Things did not work out precisely as planned, but Fridtjof Nansen nevertheless pushed farther north than any human had up to that point.)  The Fram is now well ensconced in its own museum on the island of Bygdøy.  [Perhaps someday Marit will merit her own museum; after all, the ship is only 36 years older than she is.]  Marit’s family composed their own song to celebrate Marit’s achievement—here are her daughters Kari and Anne, sons-in-law Einar and Preben, and grandchildren Christian, Jacob and Mattias, serenading Marit from the quarterdeck, all presided over by the polar maestro himself, Fridtjof Nansen:

I enjoyed the chance to meet many of Marit’s friends and family relations.  Of particular interest to me was seeing Robert Bjørka again.  Robert, who turned 98 on November 9, was a personal friend of Odd Nansen’s.  An architect like Nansen, he was arrested March 1, 1943, and spent the remainder of the war in Sachsenhausen as well.  His memory is undimmed over the 75 years since he was sent to the concentration camp.

Marit received many lovely gifts, including what appeared to be a lifetime supply of champagne.  My gift to her was a bit more prosaic— an apron, but one that carried what I felt was an appropriate message: “I just turned 90.  What have you done today?”  Here we are together showing off her latest acquisition:

Two days later, Marit and I toured several venues to discuss future book tour possibilities.  Tuesday, my final day in town, was a day to relax, but in some ways it turned out to be the most interesting of all to me.  Marit shared with me many of Odd Nansen’s personal papers, including diaries he wrote as early as 1918 (when only 16 years old), and more importantly, ones he kept in 1940, 1941 and 1942.  It was truly special to hear Marit translate the diary entry Nansen wrote immediately following the German invasion of Norway (9 April 1940), or the last one he wrote as a free man, on January 4, 1942.  Nine days later, Nansen was taken away “for questioning” and never saw freedom again until the closing days of World War II.  Indeed, it was an honor and a privilege to hold “history” in my hands.

The following day I began the grueling 14 ½ hour return voyage, but the memories of this visit; the chance to celebrate Marit’s special birthday with family and friends; the stories Marit shared with me of her father and of life under the occupation; the encouraging results of our book tour meetings, all made for an unforgettable trip.  Many thanks to Marit and her family for their warm hospitality. Congratulations again Marit, and Skål!

*If you want to understand the significance of “fishergirl” you will just have to read the diary.

[Coming soon: The story of the bracelet.]

October 10, 1861: Fridtjof Nansen is Born

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Fridtjof Nansen

Today is Fridtjof Nansen’s 157th birthday.  I recently revisited the incredible account of his quest for the North Pole, Farthest North, in anticipation of a lecture I gave on the same subject.  The last time I had read it was back in 2010, soon after I first discovered Odd Nansen’s diary and decided to get it re-published.  At the time Fridtjof Nansen’s exploits were totally new to me.

During my years of research on Odd Nansen I was frequently struck by the amazing similarities between Odd Nansen’s use of words and his father’s.  In my introduction to From Day to Day I wrote, “both father and son shared similar ideas and often used eerily similar language to express themselves.”  Throughout the text I highlight those instances of shared expression.

What struck me much more forcefully during this second reading of Farthest North was the growing sense of desperation Fridtjof Nansen experienced during his expedition, especially when he abandoned the safety of his ship, the Fram, and attempted, with only one other companion, some sled dogs, sledges and kayaks, to not only reach the North Pole, but then to return on the much longer trip back to civilization. After traveling for less than one month, Nansen concluded that his slow progress over rough ice and snow meant that he could not reach his goal with the food and daylight remaining, and he turned south.

This is when the real challenge began.  Heading toward “the recently discovered and sketchily mapped” Franz Joseph Land, Nansen and Hjalmar Johansen encountered all sorts of difficulties.   Here’s what Nansen confided to his diary on May 17, 1895 (May 17 being a particularly important date in the Norwegian calendar):

“And here we are in drifting ice, not knowing exactly where we are, uncertain as to our distance from an unknown land, and where we hope to find means of sustaining life and thence carve our way on towards home, with two teams of dogs whose number and strength diminish day by day, with ice and water between us and our goal which may cause us untold trouble, with sledges which now, at any rate, are too heavy for our own powers.  We press laboriously onward mile by mile; and meanwhile, perhaps, the drift of the ice is carrying us westward out to sea, beyond the land we are striving for.”

Almost two months later (July 11, 1895), nothing had improved:

“No sign of land in any direction and no open water, and now we should be in the same latitude as Cape Fligely, or at most a couple of minutes farther north.  We do not know where we are, and we do not know when this will end.  Meanwhile our provisions are dwindling day by day, and the number of our dogs is growing seriously less.  Shall we reach land while we yet have food, or shall we, when all is said, ever reach it?  It will soon be impossible to make any way against this ice and snow.  The latter is only slush; the dogs sink through at every step, and we ourselves splash through it up above our knees when we have to help the dogs or take a turn at the heavy sledges, which happens frequently.  It is hard to go on hoping in such circumstances, but still we do so; though sometimes, perhaps, our hearts fail us when we see the ice lying before us like an impenetrable maze. . . .”

Nansen would ultimately reach land before winter began—but too late to reach civilization, necessitating overwintering for another eight months in sub-zero temperatures in a primitive hut constructed of stone walls and a roof made of polar bear and walrus hides.

In June 1896, just days before Nansen accidentally stumbled upon Englishman Frederick Jackson, and rescue, he had one final, terrible ordeal—jumping into the frigid waters to retrieve the kayaks which had drifted away from shore.  Nansen wrote: “when the gusts of wind came they seemed to go right through me as I stood there in my thin, wet woolen shirt.  I shivered, my teeth chattered, and I was numb almost all over.”

Forty-seven years later, Odd Nansen stood out on the appellplatz—the roll call square—of Sachsenhausen, observing Christmas Day.  He wrote: “I stood there [in the square] a long, long time; how long I don’t know. . . .  Certainly I shed a few tears, pitiful and lost in my rags, out there in the dark.”

Odd Nansen

I have often wondered how Odd Nansen kept going when things seemed to be at their bleakest, and the war dragged interminably on. What resources did he draw upon? He must have been well aware of his father’s exploits, and undoubtedly knew the story of Farthest North quite well.  When his heart failed, did he recall his own father’s struggles—against doubt, uncertainty, the unknown, the long odds facing him, and find the inspiration he needed, like his father, to prevail?

Farthest North and From Day to Day, both based on diaries, together show how a person can prevail against even the toughest challenges, one created by Mother Nature, the other by the evil nature of man.  They both need to be read, and re-read, for their inspiring lessons.

Odd Nansen’s Postscript

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Back in June I was honored to give a presentation to the Nordic Museum in Seattle, WA (which I have written about here).

Following my talk, one of the first audience members I met were Shlomo Goldberg and his wife Karen Treiger.  Shlomo explained that his father had escaped from Treblinka–from Treblinka!–one of the deadliest camps the Nazi ever constructed–and thereafter survived by hiding in a pit in the forest with a woman who would later become his wife.  Within just the past few days Karen has published the story of her in-laws; of survival, of finding a new life in America, and of Karen’s own journey of discovery: My Soul is Filled With Joy: A Holocaust Story, available on Amazon here.

The story of Sam and Esther Goldberg is almost beyond belief, and I plan to write more about the book in a future blog.  Karen recently shared with me a piece she just wrote for the Wexner Foundation, started by Leslie Wexner, the billionaire philanthropist who created a retail and marketing empire (The Limited; Bath & Body Works; Henri Bendel, etc.).  She gives a succinct overview of her in-laws’ story, and then closes her piece with the final words Odd Nansen wrote in his Postscript to From Day to Day, words which she writes still “rings in my ears”:

The worst crime you can commit today, against yourself and society, is to forget what happened and sink back into indifference. What happened was worse than you have any idea of—and it was the indifference of mankind that let it take place!

The full text of Karen’s piece can be found here; click on the link to learn more about Sam and Esther Goldberg.

Thank you, Karen, for highlighting Odd Nansen’s powerful admonition to all of us.

‘Just Wave’ in Minot, ND

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I’ve just returned from a Scandinavian festival in Minot, ND—Norsk Høstfest.  I was really looking forward to the trip.  I had gone last year and thoroughly enjoyed myself.  What is a bit unusual about my fond memories is that last year I caught a bad cold at the event (the convention center was like a refrigerator) and then threw my back out to boot.  So why such pleasant memories?

It’s not necessarily due to the location.  Minot is a rather plain, unprepossessing town/city of almost 50,000.  The weather is usually at least 25 degrees colder than Tryon (this year snow was forecast for the day I was leaving).  The economy in the area is geared toward farming; one customer at my booth admitted to me that the only time he gets to do any real reading these days is “during calving season.”  I nodded my head, unsure whether calving season occurs in the spring, summer or fall (or maybe winter?).   I certainly had never heard that explanation before.

So, what is it about Høstfest?  Within hours of landing, it struck me.  Almost everyone I met, from the shuttle bus driver, the fellow bus passengers, the vendors at the festival, the entertainers, the attendees, were simply among the friendliest, most courteous, most civil people I have ever met.  One can’t help but be in a good mood all the time.  And the courtesy is genuine—whether it is the woman selling Norwegian waffles, the man supplying Finnish beef stew, or the purveyor of Icelandic chocolate, everyone is upbeat, happy to be there, and committed to your enjoyment as well.  It’s a bit like being at a birthday party, or a wedding, with thousands of your best friends.

I think back to last year, when I was in so much pain on the final day that I was having difficulty even walking to the shuttle bus stop.  A couple—clearly more advanced in age than I—came along and asked if they could carry my bag.  That is why the Høstfest is so special to me.

And if that were not enough, I met some fascinating people as well.  One man, now living in Sun City Center, FL, told me that both his grandfather Sigurd and uncle Sverre were arrested the same day in 1943 and sent to Grini, the same camp where Odd Nansen spent almost 18 months as a prisoner.  Another man informed me that his grandfather’s uncle was Bernhard Nordahl, who accompanied Fridtjof Nansen on his historic quest for the North Pole.  Another woman explained how, as a 9 year-old, she watched the defeated German soldiers leave Norway in the summer of 1945 from the hill beside her house.

Perhaps the most fitting coda to the entire trip came when I reached the Minot International Airport on Sunday morning to fly home.  The airport was extra quiet when I arrived a full two hours before my flight—no one at the ticket counters, etc.  Finally, help arrived, I checked my bag, and headed for the gate.  Not a TSA person in sight.  Then I noticed this official looking sign:

Sign at Minot Airport

The picture quality is not that great, so I’ll recreate the text:

The TSA CHECKPOINT
typically opens
1-1/2 hours
(90 minutes)
before departures.
The Trestle Tap House will
serve customers on the
mezzanine. Just wave at the
staff or call in your order.
(701) 852-1210

Isn’t it comforting to know that even if the TSA is not on the job (which they ‘typically’ are), you can still get service at the Tap House—just wave at the staff.

This tells me more about Minot, ND, than any fancy travel brochure could.  I’m already looking forward to next year!

From Day to Day Goes to Third Printing

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Sparked by strong sales in the first half of 2018, Vanderbilt University Press has ordered a third printing of Odd Nansen’s From Day to Day.  As mentioned previously, Vanderbilt’s first printing was expected to last for approximately three years (i.e., until May 2019).  The second printing was ordered less than two years later, and this third printing follows only seven months after that.

Recently I received a mailing from the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (which, as discussed here and here, is the beneficiary of 50% of all royalties from the sale of my edition of From Day to Day).  On the cover was this quote from Elie Wiesel, Founding Museum Chairman:

“We should never think that it is finished.  With imagination, with passion, with fervor, begin again.  It’s up to you now that my past does not become your future.”

Odd Nansen’s incomparable diary is an important guidepost in preventing the past from becoming the future.  Now, more than ever, with Antisemitism on the rise, both here and abroad, Nansen’s words and example need to be studied, and heeded.

In the final paragraph of Nansen’s Postscript to his diary, he writes:

“The worst crime you can commit today, against yourself and society, is to forget what happened and sink back into indifference.  What happened was worse than you have any idea of—and it was the indifference of mankind that let it take place.”

As long as Nansen’s words are read, the world will not forget what happened, and as long as they are read, it will be that much more difficult for the world to sink back into indifference.  I sincerely hope that From Day to Day goes on to many more printings, and I will do everything in my power to make that happen.

THE Tour (Part II): Postscript

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Seventy-seven years ago last Thursday (August 23, 1941), Per Birkevold, Hjalmar Svae and Bjorn Fraser began their ill-fated quest to steal a German boat and escape from Norway to England.  I have written about this episode in prior blogs (here and here).  I also wrote about the amazing coincidence of meeting Hjalmar Svae’s niece, Siri Svae Fenson, and Bjorn Fraser’s daughter, Helene Sobol, within days of each other (here).

Well, there’s yet more to the story.  After the war Svae ran a dancing school in Oslo, named, appropriately enough, Svae’s Dancing School.  Turns out that Helene Sobol, Fraser’s daughter, attended the very same dancing school.  Here’s a photo of Helene, age around 9, with her younger sister Jane, all dressed up in their finest ball dresses.

Courtesy Helene Sobol

What you cannot tell from the photo is that the two dresses shown were made by Helene’s father out of parachute silk! When Fraser’s death sentence was commuted, he volunteered to work in the prison tailor shop, where he learned—apparently quite well—his tailoring skills.  Siri Svae Fenson, Svae’s niece, remembers visiting her uncle’s dancing school as a child, and may even have unknowingly crossed paths with young Helene many years ago.

And wait, there’s still yet another interesting connection.  As mentioned in my earlier blog, Bjorn Fraser went on to a very successful career in the Norwegian Air Force.  In the early 1960s he commanded the Sola Air Base near Stavanger.  There he was visited, in 1964, by Hiltgunt Zassenhaus, who was in the country to receive the Order of St. Olav, the only German ever to be so honored for her wartime heroics.  Zassenhaus, in her capacity as a “chaperone/watchdog,” accompanied clergy from the Seamen’s Church who were allowed to visit Norwegian prisoners.  While supposedly keeping an eye on the clergy, she was actually secretly smuggling food and vitamins into the prisoners, and keeping track of their exact location, allowing them to rescued in the “White Buses” operation at the end of the war.  Ten years later (1974) Hiltgunt was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize for her work by the Norwegian Parliament (the Storting).  I have written about Zassenhaus at more length here.

Courtesy Helene Sobol

In the above photo from the 1964 visit, Fraser stands to the far right; Zassenhaus stands next to him (his right, our left); Helene is the young woman in the white dress (fifth from the left); her mother is standing directly in front of her (to our right).

Thanks to Helene Sobol for the photos, and the additional insights.  Are there still more connections out there?? Stay tuned.

THE Book Tour (Part VI): YouTube

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On June 14 I had the opportunity to address the residents of Sun City Lincoln Hills, in Lincoln, CA.  The 150-seat auditorium soon filled up, and chairs were brought in, and finally, when no more chairs could be accommodated, some resorted to sitting in the aisles.  I was honored by the presence of a Holocaust survivor (Herta Jacoby), and by the presence of six children of Holocaust survivors, all of whom received complimentary copies of From Day to Day afterward. 

The AV technicians who helped me were unusually proficient, and easily set me up with my PowerPoint, portable microphone, etc.  They announced that they would tape the program for those residents unable to make the presentation.  Recently they shared with me their work, which they have now posted on YouTube.  The production quality is quite good, so if you haven’t yet seen my presentation about Odd Nansen and From Day to Day, or if you just need to see it again (and yet again—I won’t mind), here it is: https://youtu.be/d3n46V0fGNU.

Many thanks to Debra Skolnick for her assistance in setting up this program, and to all the residents who showed their interest and support by attending.

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Upcoming Events

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Book Signings

  • February 10, 2019: Central United Methodist Church/S.T.A.R.
  • February 22, 2019: Providence Athenaeum, Providence, RI
  • March 10, 2019: York, PA Jewish Community Center, York, PA
  • May 2, 2019: Notre Dame High School, West Haven, CT
  • January 21, 2020: Alpha Delta Kappa, Raleigh, NC

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"Tim...gave a terriffic presentation [at the Norwegian Nobel Institute]."

- Anne Ellingsen, author of Odd Nansen: Arvtageren

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Upcoming Events

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Book Signings

  • February 10, 2019: Central United Methodist Church/S.T.A.R.
  • February 22, 2019: Providence Athenaeum, Providence, RI
  • March 10, 2019: York, PA Jewish Community Center, York, PA
  • May 2, 2019: Notre Dame High School, West Haven, CT
  • January 21, 2020: Alpha Delta Kappa, Raleigh, NC
< 2018 >
December
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      1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
3031     
Legend
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  This day in history