SAM NATANSOHN - REMEMBRANCES

Among the casualties of COVID-19 was my grandfather, Samuel Natansohn. He passed away in August.

People knew him as a chemist, a father and grandfather, a Holocaust survivor, a paddle-boat enthusiast, and many other things. I had the privilege of knowing him as a writer. 

In the late sixties and early seventies, Sam published his remembrances of the war years in a series of articles for a magazine distributed by his temple in Massapequa. A compilation of these articles, typed out in a small blue booklet with concertina wire on the cover, has long been a treasured heirloom in my family. 

I offer the text here to download. 

This retyped copy was one of my quarantine projects. I did it in part for practical reasons. It made me nervous to suppose that the physical copies might somehow get lost and would eventually deteriorate. There was also this: I needed to spend some time with Sam. I missed him. I missed the flow of a conversation with him, the questions begetting questions; the arguments and counter-arguments and the bedrock of belief; I missed the chance to marvel at a mind both brilliant and wise. I missed his voice. While typing I could hear the bright, creaky clarity of the way he spoke; the mix of Polish, German, and New Yorkish inflections at play; I heard his voice in somberness, in reflection, and in the tones of a man smiling at a great mystery.   

Drop me a line if you read this and wanna chat about it.