AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL

By Alan Chaim Jablin

My parents, Markus and Henia Jablonowski, of blessed memory, amazingly survived the Holocaust.  They were married in Siberia after only knowing each other for one week.  Their families were murdered by the Nazis and their hometowns destroyed.  They had nowhere to go after the war officially ended, but for them the nightmare did not end.  They somehow made their way to the Bergen Belsen Displaced Persons Camp with my two older brothers who were both born in the frozen wasteland of Siberia.  They remained in the camp for four years, during which time I was born.

I was able to retrieve documents from the DP Camp sixty years after the camp closed and discovered that in 1947, my father filled out a registration card that indicated he wanted to go to Palestine, now Israel.  The British White Paper prevented us from going there.

While in the camp, my mother learned through a Jewish agency that she had one surviving sister in Detroit, MI.  We couldn't come to America immediately because of President Roosevelt's immigration policies. We finally were able to come to the United States after the camp closed in 1951.

America was not a place my parents wanted to go to.  What they really wanted was to go back to their homes in Poland.  Unfortunately, those homes were destroyed or taken by Poles who took advantage of what the Nazis did.  It was also known that Jews who tried to return were sometimes killed by Poles who took their property.

As it turned out, coming to America became a blessing.  We arrived in New York in May, 1951 aboard the ship U.S.S. Muir, courtesy of the Hebrew Immigration Aid Society (HIAS).  The Jewish Family Service in Detroit assisted us in resettlement.  My father was a skilled tradesman for construction and spoke passable English so fairly quickly found employment.  My mother learned English. We became part of the Jewish community in Detroit, and me and my brothers attended both public schools and Yeshiva afternoon schools.  This was deliberately done so that we could learn English and assimilate into American society.  My father immediately grasped what many call the American dream and always spoke of looking forward and not living in the horrific past.

In order to become a U.S. Citizen it was required by law that we be in the United States for five years.  My parents wasted no time and became citizens, as did myself and my brothers under their petition, in May, 1956.  Since I was a minor, I did not receive my own citizenship papers.  When I entered the United States army in 1969, I decided to get my own papers, which I did with the assistance of Army lawyers.

We had nothing but two suitcases when we arrived in America, but it was the land of opportunity.  I had my first job at eight years old and whatever I made was turned over to my parents.  We were so poor that I had to pay for my own bar mitzvah with money gifts I got.  I was able to work my way through college and law school and earn enough to support my family in a way that was satisfactory to me.  I am grateful this country allowed me to do that. I count my blessings every day. Most importantly, the freedom we have here in America allowed me to make my own decisions about what I wanted to do, where to live, where to practice Judaism, and realize whatever potential Hashem instilled in me.  This is the magic of America which, unfortunately, so many nowadays do not appreciate or worse, take for granted.

The 4th of July, also called Independence Day, celebrates the birth of American independence in 1776.  The principles created by the founding fathers served my family well.  From a place of what seemed to be hopelessness, we came to a place of hope and promise.........AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL.