The Kindness of a Stranger

Arrival in Vera Cruz, Mexico

Yesterday, I described the anti-Semitic and anti-Immigrant sentiment that awaited the S. S. Flandre in the Caribbean in 1939. The Jewish refugees on the Flandre, along with the St Louis and the Orduña, were all denied entry into Havana, Cuba. On the Flandre, there were over 100 Jewish refugees — and Opapa was one of them. On the St Louis, there were over 900. Hundreds of these refugees would later perish in the Holocaust, after they were forced to return to Europe.

A still from a video showing the Flandre in the Havana harbor in May/June 1939. Full video available here

The more I’ve learned about the horrendous treatment of refugees fleeing the Nazis, the more I have wondered: how on earth was Opapa able to disembark, when so many other Jewish refugees were not?

I found the answer to this question in a draft of Opapa’s autobiography that he wrote before he died. It turns out, it’s a story I’d heard many times before, but I didn’t understand the full circumstances. I also hadn’t realized the story occured in Mexico — I thought it was in the United States.

Opapa considered this moment to be one of the most significant “turning points” in his life. This is how he described it:

The next turning point came on board the ship. Immigration officers came aboard in Vera Cruz harbor. The passengers lined up for passport inspection. When I looked to the head of the line, I noticed that the immigration officers asked the passengers to show money, presumably (as in the U.S.) to avoid becoming [a] public charge upon disembarkation. (But, unlike in the U.S., in some cases they pealed off a few bills and pocketed them before returning the money. ) I buttonholed a passenger who had gone through the line, and asked him to lend me money just to show the immigration officers. I promised to return it once the immigration officers validated my visa.

He paused for what seemed like an eternity. Then he reached into his pocket and said: “This is my life’s savings. If they take it, I am lost.” Five more seconds of silence as if to summon up strength, and [I] went through the line without incident, and was able to return the money intact.

George Gerbner, unfinished Autobiography draft, 2005

When Opapa told this story, he always emphasized how difficult it was for this stranger to trust him with his life’s savings — and for good reason. If Opapa had stolen the money, or if the immigration officer had taken it, the man would have been “lost.”

And yet, after pausing for “what seemed like an eternity,” this man “reached into his pocket” and “after five more seconds of silence as if to summon up strength,” he handed over his life’s savings to Opapa who then “went through the line without incident, and was able to return the money intact.”

It’s an incredible story showing how a single act of kindness — and trust — can shift the course of another person’s life. This was always the moral Opapa emphasized when he told the story. He knew he was fortunate, and he remained grateful to this stranger for the rest of his life.

What I didn’t know, when Opapa told this story, were the broader circumstances of the moment: this was after 104 Jewish refugees on his boat had been denied entry into Cuba, despite the fact that they were in possession of “landing permits” that had already been paid for. In Havana, not even the promise of $500 bonds per passenger were enough to convince the Cuban government to allow these Jewish refugees to come ashore.

It was a terrifying experience, and Opapa would have been sitting in the Havana harbor with all of these refugees as they waited to hear their fate. Opapa wrote a few sentences about this in the draft of his autobiography:

When the ship arrived in Havana harbor, some refugees from Europe discovered that while they were en route, their Cuban visas were invalid. In desperation, some jumped overboard to try to swim ashore, I never knew what happened to them.

George Gerbner, unfinished Autobiography draft, 2005

I don’t think Opapa usually included this part of the story when he told friends and family about the stranger who lent him money to get through immigration; at least I don’t remember it. But the Cuban context is important for understanding how stressful — and treacherous — the arrival in Vera Cruz would have been.

The stranger who lent Opapa his life’s savings also knew what had happened in Havana. He knew that there were 104 Jewish refugees on the boat who had not been able to disembark, and that this person standing in front of him, my grandfather, might become another one. Perhaps this man, too, had seen some of the refugees “jump overboard” in Havana, in desperation. So despite his fear, he decided to trust Opapa with his life savings.

Understanding what happened in Cuba shows how precarious Opapa’s situation was. When we hear stories after-the-fact, they often seem preordained: like, Opapa was always going to make it to the United States; of course he survived and was one of the “lucky ones.”

But this was not the case. It was not safe, and his survival was not preordained. In Vera Cruz, over 100 Jewish refugees on his ship would again be denied entry. Opapa was one of just a handful of refugees who was allowed to disembark — and only because a total stranger lent him his life’s savings.

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Nuts to crack:

• Is it possible to get a passenger list of the SS Flandre? I’ve found one for the St Louis but not the Flandre. I know I won’t be able to figure out which one gave Opapa the money, but I would like to see the names.

• Did Opapa know what happened to the other refugees on the Flandre in Vera Cruz? He doesn’t mention it in his autobiography, though he does talk about what happened in Havana.