Off the Cuff: Coming to America

With the isolation of COVID, Shannon and I have, more than in the past, turned to TV to keep our sanity and fill gaps previously satisfied by travel, friends and the normal routine of our lives. One show, PBS’ Finding Your Roots, hosted by Henry Louis Gates, is among our favorites, and as it has for many of the celebrities on the show, connected us to our own roots.

Growing up in a working-class section of the Bronx, I was surrounded by a veritable United Nations of ethnicities, races and cultures. A curious kid, I remember coming home from first grade and asking my father where we came from. My father didn’t talk much about his childhood, but he answered quickly, “sometimes Russia, sometimes Poland.” I insisted, “come on Dad, we can’t be from two places, Tommy’s parents came from Ireland and Louie’s grandparents from Italy. Where are we from?” He looked at me with growing impatience and said in a much louder voice, “sometimes Russia, sometimes Poland.” I knew it was time to stop asking. Years later, while cleaning out old papers after my parents had passed, I found my grandfather’s passport. Covered in fine leather and with a very formal picture, his country of origin was listed as “Sometimes Russia, Sometimes Poland.” Apparently, back then, the country changed hands so often that where you were from depended on what day of the week it was.

During an episode of “Who Do You think You Are?” on NBC, I discovered that actor Lisa Kudrow and I have something in common. Our families both came from a small village called Ilya that was sometimes in Russia and sometimes in Poland. Rounding up Ilya’s Jewish population, men women and children were stripped naked by the Nazis. They were forced to wait in the cold until they were pushed to the edge of a large pit where two or three at time were shot, and thrown into the pit dead or dying while the others watched. Those that somehow managed to survive being shot were doused in gasoline and burned alive.

Much of my father’s family died in Ilya, including my father’s oldest brother, Avraham, who I am named after and his family. Kudrow’s family met the same fate. You can see her reaction here. The stark reality of that horror finally brought complete understanding of why my father could not speak of his family or of a childhood scarred by beatings and constant persecution, as he hid in cellars and alleys to escape it.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about this country. I’ve been thinking about our parents and grandparents. I’ve thought back to my childhood and my friends from back then. Knowing what I know now, I can’t imagine what it must have been like for my father, still a child, coming to a new country on his own on a huge ship filled with strangers. I think about my grandparents and their journey and the journeys of my friends whose parents and grandparents came to America in search of hope and opportunity. Some came to escape beatings or worse. Some left behind horrible poverty or religious persecution, while others fled from famine and starvation. Some were brought here against their will.

As I ponder it all, few, if any of us had ancestors that did not come here without pain or suffering. Despite this, virtually all of us have benefitted from being in America no matter what our family history or story. In these confusing, uncertain and often tumultuous times, perhaps we should remember that all of us share something incredibly important in common. We are Americans. GBA

Arthur B. Epstein, OD, FAAO Chief Medical Editor artepstein@optometricphysician.com

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Write to Dr. Epstein at artepstein@optometricphysician.com. The views expressed in this editorial are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent the opinions of the editorial board, Jobson Medical Information LLC (JMI), or any other entities or individuals.