photography – Page 32 – Lorin Duckman Today

Norman Frajman, Survivor

So, Norman isn’t the first survivor I have met or photographed. His willingness to speak about the experience, along with his eloquence, was new. He shares his story tirelessly with groups in the Palm Beach County area in hopes of keeping the memories of the dead alive. Those who hear him and see his mementos must feel as touched as I did.

How he survived is not so important. Those who lived through the hell of the Holocaust all have a tale. He cannot explain why he survived and others didn’t, except to say it was an act of providence. The violence and hatred he saw is unimaginable. That he and others can live without overbearing pain and paralysis makes him and his fellow survivors super human. That is important.

But, what is more important is that we never forget them and that the carnage will never be repeated.

Stars and Stripes

So, we are shopping at Bed Bath and Bath and Beyond the Fringe. I have a coupon, which if you don’t, you should not shop without a discount. At the counter, Sharon donned this tiara. The sales woman said no one had bought one. Not surprising, in light of the comedy of the Republican party, supporting a neo-facist who doesn’t realize who he is, because he isn’t smart enough and neither are his supportes.

Sharon said she hoped for America, so long as trumpolini didn’t survive. A woman standing at the next register, said, “Amen.”

Michael Marden, Survivor

Michael Marden, 91, survived 9 concentration camps. Freed from Bergen Belsen, he went to Sweden and then the United States. He hold three patents, has grand-children and great grand-children. And he loves his life, except for not being able to have a daily hit of schnapps.

Grandson Brian is in 11th grade. Has a photo business. Shoots bar mitzvahs, school evens and whatever. And he loves grandpa.

D-Day June 6, 2016

70th anniversary and they don’t get easier. On Omaha beach, they landed and died. More came, stepping over their bodies. Some of them died, too. Kids who hadn’t lived. Kids with no idea of their mortality. They left mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers.

How did Irvin die? Don’t know? But I can tell you why. He did it for me and I wasn’t yet born. I love you Irvin.

Hallowed be the ground at the American Cemetery.

Some guy I never saw before came to Anshei Shalom to say kaddish for the fallen at the Holocaust Memorial in front of the shul. He served in Germany, sometime. He needed a place to pray.

May their memories be a blessing.

Minyan Image Hung on Wall at Temple Anshei Shalom

I made this image as a prayer aid, something to take the minyanim to a higher level. My talit, worn at my Bar Mitzvah, given to me by my father. My kappa, swiped from a box somewhere, bearing the name of some people whom I don’t know who gave it to people who attended their wedding. Tefillin from Sholem Lipskar who presides in Bal Harbor, whom I have not seen for years. He thought we were related and deserted me during my assassination. The prayer book is from a Rabbi I knew in MA. It belonged to his grandfather. It is open to the page we all read when we put on the boxes. Today, they hung it in the little sanctuary at Anshei Sholem where we belong.

I made all the light in the image in a studio. It’s artificial. Only God makes light. He did that first so we could observe the wonder of his creation.

May we all, this shabbos, use that light to see clearly, focused on human rights and justice, loving our families and communities and making the best of our short time hear on earth.

Why War

We stood in mourning at the American Cemetery with people from all over the world. All came knowing the dead even if we weren’t related by anything other than our sadness. Kids mostly lie at rest. Carerra marble stones don’t have dates or places of birth. The dead came from somewhere in the US. Had mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers. Deprived of their life for no reason other than their desire to stop the madness and mayhem of State murder, all believing they were doing right for the right reasons. Many of their brothers lie else where, closer to home. We felt them, too.

There is silence in the place, people in the graves have muffled voices. I wanted to unearth the remains, hug the bodies and say thanks. But when I went with the group and saw this statue, my eyes dried a bit and my heart filled with rage. I looked at the figure and it said to me, arms and voice raised, “WHY WAR.”

Back To Boynton

Home. Haven’t really settled in, even though we have been here for a year. Went to Paris last year. Did a couple of weeks here and there. I almost died following gall bladder surgery. We don’t have a routine and I have cruise pounds. Who do you call? Bicycle Doctor. They make house calls to repair and restore bikes. Our antique bikes, bought in Brooklyn and maintained, will outlive us. I want us both to live a while, a wish supported by Sharon and a select few. So, let’s get it on and take off some pounds.

Alternate Sources of Power

Before we convince ourselves of our rightness or righteousness, let’s not forget the world around us, most of which is water, above which the wind blows. Other ways exist to supply power than fossil fuels. And, you don’t need to be a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.

American Cemetery, Normandy 2016

All Americans owe a debt to these men, mostly young, who changed the course of history. They gave their life for me. Families of Jews made the decision to bury them with their brothers. 149 Carrera marble Mogen Davids stand, marking their graves. No rocks to mark my visit. I left my tears. Some leave roses.

Vets on our tour and others laid wreaths for all. Most who came on the Beaches are now dead. No way to mourn them enough or apologize for our inhumanity. When we ask why we do this, we know the answer.

A monument was erected to the fallen on Omaha Beach. Soldiers did better on nearby Utah Beach. I try not to believe the dead were sacrifices, though things like that happen in wars. Sad but true. And to think these guys were volunteers….

Cora Duckman, Dead for 20 Years

So, my Mother died during my hearing. She had a heart attack watching Governor Pataki rail at me, demanding I resign. As I sat shiva, newsmen prowled outside until shooed by Kendall, out neighbor. My brother blamed me for her death. Family deserted me. Few came to our home.

I was refused an extension of time to appear, a point noted somewhere in the decisions supporting my removal. I never really got a chance to mourn or grieve.

Today, we are traveling through Europe. A rabbi has been brought aboard to lead the seder. At his lecture on Jewish values, I asked the assembled crowd if people would join to make a minyan. Yes, women are invited.

We got 8. Found Kaddish prayer on my I Pad. Rabbi asked if I could read Hebrew. I said, “yes, as long as I don’t cry too much.” I did cry and we did say Kaddish.