Department of Corrections

My father emailed me today to tell me he likes the blog (aw, shucks!) and to correct some errors in a previous post about my family history. Here's that post again, with his corrections incorporated:

My dad was born in 1935 in Germany (Homburg-on-the-Saar, which is near the French border), so spent the first five years of his life with his family getting the hell out of the way of the Nazis. (Essentially, they were on the run.) The family was lucky - an aunt of my dad's had married a wealthy man with business connections in New York, which is what allowed them to get out of the country with a place to go. They actually went to France soon after Dad was born because his uncle also had factories in France. (His uncle also had Dad's father, my Opa, a man I never met, move money from Germany and France and the two of them built a business in New York in the late 30's so that by the time they finally got away from Europe in 1941, there was already a business.) My dad doesn't like to talk about it (though he tells me now he's ready anytime I want to listen!), so I don't know much - but I've been told that at one point they were smuggled over the Pyrenees into Spain with Basque gypsies. They got a boat from Portugal to New York, with a three day lay-over in Havana, and the rest is history. So to speak.

Thanks for setting the record straight, Pops! Hey, what didja think of that half-Jewish website? Quite the kick, eh?