This past Wednesday, June 10, 2009, was my eighth grade graduation, where I "graduated with honors". This same day, 28 years ago, June 10, 1981, my mother and her younger brother, her parents, and her grandmother arrived at JFK International Airport from Russia. I just briefly want to recap a little on their -- in my humble opinion -- quite amazing story.
In communist Russia, of course, there were spies everywhere. Your maid or employer. Your next door neighbor. You get my drift. Though my mother's family was not particularly observant, the simple fact that you were Jewish was enough to have you thrown in jail. Naturally, my grandparents wanted to leave. This was no simple task, though. Living under communism, you must first apply for an exit visa. And wait. And wait. My grandparents were never given permission. In addition to that, my grandmother did not return to work and my grandfather's salary was cut by 75%. He was also stripped of all of the patents he had filed.
One day, though, something happened that would change that decision forever. Russia, like Israel, has military reserves. Once every few years, every male has to return for training and updates in weaponry and technology. My grandfather was summoned to the reserves, but since he was applying to leave, he flat-out refused -- something which could have had him thrown in jail. (If you were in the army, then you obviously can't leave, since you know special secrets.) My grandfather took the risk. Several weeks later, another letter arrived in the mail. It said that my mother and her family had seven days to pack up and get out. (Usually, applicants were allowed several months to sell their belongings and settle all of their business.)
On June 10, 1981, my mother and her family arrived here, in the United States, with two suitcases a person, which was the limit for anyone leaving the country. Here in America, my grandfather got a job as an engineer and my grandmother became a bookkeeper for a business in Manhattan. My grandfather knew what little English he had learned to teach my grandmother and mother. My mother went on to Poly Prep, a high school in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, and from there went on to Columbia.
