Good Samaritans

"The persecution of Jews in the General Government in Polish territory gradually worsened in its cruelty. In 1939 and1940 they were forced to wear the Star of David and were herded together and confined in ghettos. In 1941 and1942 this unadulterated sadism was fully revealed. And then a thinking man, who had overcome his inner cowardice, simply had to help. There was no other choice."
- Oskar Schindler, in a 1964 interview.

"There is a difference between Passive Goodness and Active Goodness, which is the giving of one’s time and energy, in the alleviation of pain and suffering. It entails going out, finding and helping those in suffering and in danger and not merely leading an exemplary life in the purely passive way of doing no wrong."
- Nicholas Winton, in a letter written in 1939

"There is nothing wrong in saving many people's lives.... The spirit of humanity, philanthropy... neighborly friendship... with this spirit, I ventured to do what I did, confronting this most difficult situation and because of this reason, I went ahead with redoubled courage."
- Chiune Sugihara

Academy Award winning Schindler's List by Steven Spielberg took the world by storm two decades ago. In Europe, a decade later, a British centenarian, Nickolas Winton (born 1909), was recognized and people petitioned for him to receive the Nobel Prize for peace, as he transported 669 Jewish children from Prague to London, all of whom were adopted in England. The 2011 documentary Nicky's Family by Matej Minac won a few world film festival awards. Queen Elizabeth knighted Nicholas and CBS in United States featured him on 60 Minutes.

My American friend who read my blog reminded me of Nicholas Winton, so I referred it to my Czech friend Valerie. Valerie responded with a more detailed story about one of the Kindertransport children.

"Kindertransport Operations": several countries rescued Jewish children away from the Nazis in 1939. Poland, Germany, France, Holland, Sweden, and the Czech Republic are erecting memorial statues in memory of these successful operations.

Nicholas Winton, Jewish, born in Germany, became a British stockbroker. He was asked by his diplomat friend "how about lending a hand to the desperate Jewish families?" Canceling his ski trip to Switzerland, Nicholas flew to Prague and set up a recruiting space, first at the open Winceslas Square, then moved inside the Hotel Evropa where he stayed.

In 2005 I had a chance to visit Winceslas Square for half a day, admiring its historic significance and squinting saint statues. I visited art nouveau style hotels; including Hotel Evrope, whose façade was designed by Jan Letzel, the same architect who did the UNESCO Heritage Hiroshima dome. I'm happy to see this hotel has a connection between Jan Letzel and Nicholas Winton.

Of all the Kindertransport art sculptures, two at the Prague Railway Central Station (the statue is on the Prague main train station on the platform from where the Winton´s trains with children left for Great Britain) and London's Liverpool Street Station outshine all others, giving thanks to the courageous act of Nicholas Winton. What impressed me was that the records of Nicholas Winton were boxed and forgotten in the attic, unbeknownst to Grete, his wife. In 1988, Grete found a scrapbook from 1939 with a complete list of names and a few letters from parents of the children addressed to Nicholas. That was how Grete found out what kind of man her husband truly was.

My Czech friend Valerie lives in Pardubice, about 100 km east of Prague. She emailed to me that this past March, she attended "an evening with Lady Milena Grenfell-Baines" event at Pardubice University. (I was a lucky traveler to have once stayed at this Pardubice University dorm). Lady Milena Grenfell-Baines was one of the 669 Winton children. Valerie sent me slides of photos of this event and I'm happy to share them with my readers.

Lady Milena, upon arriving at Liverpool Street Station, London, met her guardian "the Radcliffes" who looked after her for a year when she was joined by her parents. She spoke Czech and English and at age 16, she left for France as an au pair for two years. Her father found work in Preston, Lancashire where her family re-united. At age 25 Milena met her late husband Sir George Grenfell-Baines, a well-known architect. Milena, published Czech recipe books using the Remoska, a Czech made electric cooking pot. She was on air with her cooking lessons, while organizing England-Czech sports and music exchange, as well as charity programs as sponsor/interpreter. Lately, she has been addressing European audiences regarding her Kindertransport experience.

Milena has maintained a close relationship with Sir Nicholas Winton. In 2001 Milena was presented with the Jan Masaryk ‘Gratis Agit’ award, by the Czech Minister of Foreign Affairs for remaining a faithful patriot, an ambassador of goodwill, culture and history for the Czech Republic.

Additional Resources:
1. Complete photos from "Setkání s Lady Milenou Grenfell-Baines"
2. Documentary The Power of Good
3. http://www.powerofgood.net/

World War II Memoir: Chiune Sugihara

There're quite a few YouTube videos today on Chiune Sugihara, but I was struck with this 20-minute Hirameki TV project "George Bluman's Story of a Jewish Family Saved by Sugiura's Visas" released on February 15, 2014, just a few months ago. George Bluman, professor of mathematics at British Columbia University, speaks of his father (Nathan), mother (Susan), and uncle’s family, and how they escaped Poland and Lithuania, from the Nazi's threats, thanks to Sugihara's visas. They traveled through Siberia, Vladivostok, Japan Sea, Kobe, Tokyo, and the Pacific Ocean to their final destination, Vancouver, Canada. A few ten dollar bills were all their parents had left after such a long journey. Nathan had to work immediately and secured a job as a meat packer and Susan as a seamstress. Nathan held an engineering degree from a Warsaw University but was not recognized in Canada. He had to enter a Canadian University to earn his degree anew, this time in agricultural studies.

George Bluman contends that it was only after the 1980s that Nathan found the name of Chiune Sugihara, as the Japanese Consul in charge who saved them, after reading "Fugu Plan" – the untold story of the Japanese and the Jews during WWII - written in 1979 by Marvin Tokayer and Mary Swartz. Nathan wrote to Chiura Sugihara to thank him. George did not mention if Nathan's letter ever reached Chiura, who was then no longer a diplomat, living in Moscow working as a trader.

The "Fugu Plan" book was news to me. I'm aghast. In building Manchuria, Japan planned to accept immigration of white Russians into Manchuria, and form a sort of autonomous region. Some countries, including the U.S. were not against the plan, at least not initially. Some Japanese coined it the Fugu Plan, analogous to the proverb "poison quells poison" - a double-faced delicacy or death of a puffer fish. It was well known that Japan won the Russo-Japanese war with aid from friendly white Russian financiers. The key then was how to harness the economic and political power of white Russians. The plan, however, was negated at the NYC World Jewish Congress and subsequently abandoned.

George Bluman then spoke of his sister Barbara who died of cancer in 2001 without finishing her book, I have My Mother's Eyes. Barbara's daughter, Danielle completed it in 2009 with help from the family. I was impressed with Bluman's dispassionate way of speaking, but brimmed with his profound affection for all his family members. Bluman spared no praise toward Chiune Sugihara and called him a brave man. Bluman says Chiune saved Jewish lives irrespective of the utmost danger he and his family faced. He really believes his parents would have perished in the gas chamber if not for Sugihara's visas.

He spoke of his daughter who became a professor of psychology, specializing in studies about happiness. Bluman quoted his daughter's theorizing that happiness has nothing to do with financial success. Happiest and most respectful is the man who helps others. Chiune deserves respect who was motivated only by his conscience and not out of personal gain or profit. Bluman then rephrases the usual way Chiune is praised. The real savior was Chiune Sugihara, and Schindler should be called the "German Sugihara". Bluman personally established a small Sugihara prize and urges the Japanese to follow suit.

He would like his sister's book translated into Japanese, as the book is full of positive life views (even toward adversaries) and would most likely inspire Japanese youth.

Additional Resources:
1. More info about Chiune Sugihara

A Segment of World War II in Japan

When I first heard about Sempo Sugihara, the diplomat (1900-1986), I thought of Karl, my San Diego friend who came over from the Baltic. Karl was an IEEE Fellow who made many trips to Japan. When I told him I was visiting St. Petersburg, he introduced me to his Russian friend who spoke English. I missed the chance to ask Karl whether he was from Latvia or Lithuania before he passed away in early 2000s. He never mentioned any issues with his Japanese visa, so I assumed he was from Latvia. Back to Mr. Sugihara, whose real name was Chiune Sugihara, a hard name to remember. He used Sempo instead, which caused confusion in identifying him after his departure from the Japanese Foreign Ministry. Dispatched to Manchuria after entering the Foreign Ministry, he studied Russian and German in Harbin. There he not only married a Russian woman, but converted to Russian Orthodox, under his baptismal name Pavro Sergeevich. The marriage ended in divorce. I learned that he gave all of his savings to her family. He returned to Japan and remarried and was sent to Finland in the 1930s.

The "Visas for Life" story happened when he was stationed in Kaunas, Lithuania as vice consul. The Jewish Virtual Library called it the Miracle of Chanukah in 1939. Solly Ganor, an 11 year boy, was the son of a Menshevik refugee from the Russian revolution in the early 1920s who settled in Kaunas. The family prospered for years in textile import export business before World War II. Young Solly Ganor, concerned with Polish Jews entering Kaunas, gave most of his allowance and savings to the Jewish refugee boards. Having given away all of his money, he went to his aunt's gourmet food shop to borrow a Lithuania lit (Lithuanian dollar) to see the latest Laurel and Hardy movie. In his aunt's store he met Japanese Consul Chiune Sugihara. Consul Sugihara overheard the conversation and gave young Solly two shiny lit.

Impulsively, the young boy invited the Consul with kind eyes to his family celebration of the first night of Hanukah in 1939. The surprised and delighted Consul gratefully accepted the young boy's invitation, and he and his wife Yukiko attended their first Jewish Chanukah celebration. Solly Ganor and his father were soon friends with the Consul and they conversed in Russian. Later Solly Ganor and his father witnessed Sugihara in his office calling Russian officials to get permission to issue visas across the Russian borders. With the help of a secretary and Yukiko, Sugihara handwrote visas for days and nights, at a hotel when the consulate was closed, and at the Kaunas Station right up until the train started to leave. The visas produced numbered almost 3,000. Counting two to three per household, he saved 6,000 to 7,000 people, thus was called "Schindler of Japan".

I missed viewing Yomiuri TV’s broadcast of a special program on Sugihara in 2005 to mark the 60th anniversary of the end of World War II. The drama was based on Yukiko Sugihara's story. Honored along with Sugihara were Consul Saburo Nei (1902-1992) at Vladiostok and Dr. Setsuzo Kotsuji (1899-1973). Consul Nei studied Russian with Sugihara and helped Jews sail to Tsuruga, Japan from Vladiostok. Dr. Kotsuji did visa extensions and voyage transfers for their destinations from Kobe. Dr. Kotsuji, born to a Kyoto Kamo Shinto Shrine priest family, became a Christian, and then converted to Russian Orthodox after studying at the Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley, California. Dr. Kotsuji assisted the transit groups stranded in Kobe through religious connections and sought advice from his ex-Mantetsu (Manchurian Railroad) boss Yosuke Matsuoka (1880-1946), the incumbent Foreign Minister (FM), who was designated as a Class A War Criminal after the War, responsible for the 1940 Tripartite Pact (Germany/Italy/Japan).

Matsuoka himself was not anti-Semitic as a Christian chaperoned under the U.S. Methodist missionaries. Matsuoka immigrated to Oregon as a teenager when his father's business went bankrupt. He returned to Japan due to illness after graduating Oregon University law school. FM Matsuoka gave Kotsuji his best personal advice on how to negotiate with Kobe Police. The deal was that FM would release the travelers if the Kobe Police agreed. Kotsuji played his cards tactfully and succeeded in getting not only visa extensions but also transit travelers to sail out of Kobe to their respective destinations. I just cannot imagine how those thousands of exhausted people who arrived from a long Siberian journey, fared in Kobe while in transit.

I found a very heartwarming story on YouTube, which I will introduce in my next post.

Note: Photo above is of Sakura Park, dedicated to Chiune Sigiura in Vilnius, Lithuania

Cinematize "Dear Miss Breed"!

I remember there were comments on the Internet that said "let's make Dear Miss Breed' a movie like "99 Years of Love - Japanese Americans"! It sounds like a great idea. It could be a joint Japan-U.S. production. (I'm attaching one of the comments below, which is in Japanese). The '99 years of Love - Japanese Americans' was a five-episode TV drama (Episodes – 1: America; 2: Generations; 3: Concentration Camp; 4: Japanese American Regiment; and 5: Reunion) in 2010, produced by Tokyo Broadcasting Station (TBS) commemorating its 60th Anniversary. The mini-series won the Grand Prix Prize at the 2011 Tokyo Drama Awards. The locations used were Seattle, Washington, Los Angeles and Manzanar in California. Broadcast in Japan, reportedly 20 million Japanese tuned in and saw it evoking many emotions. That's one fifth of the population and from that, I assumed that most Japanese knew where Manzanar was, as the film shows the beauty of its wilderness, and the awesome snow covered Mt. Williamson mountain range.

Written by Sugako Hashida, who created her 'war and peace' chronicle, this love story depicts a story of a family of Japanese immigrants who moved to America 99 years ago. When World War II breaks out, the family encounters racism and segregation. The two daughters, who were sent back respectively to Hiroshima and Okinawa, experience the suffering from the Atomic Bomb and Okinawa disasters. The eldest son, Ichiro, joins the 442nd and is killed in Europe.

The last reunion scene takes place at Safeco Field ballpark where survivors including the brother, sister, and nephew (second son and daughter who was sent to Okinawa and their nephew, Ichiro's son) are reunited.

If made into a movie "Dear Miss Breed" would surely be a hit in both Japan and the U.S. I feel strongly that the day may come when an inspired Japanese American film student becomes motivated to make this happen, perhaps supported by a successful Japanese American business tycoon.

In fact, there was a daring attempt to dramatize 'Dear Miss Breed' in 2007. After receiving a grant from the California Civil Liberties Public Education Program through the California State Library, San Diego City Library asked the author, Joanne Oppenheim, to create a stage version. The resulting play was performed at the San Diego Lyceum Theater for two weeks in September 2007. It was produced by Andy Lowe, a playwright with the Asian Story Theater. Unfortunately, I did not get a chance to see it but my San Diego friend reported that it was a great play worthy of the book, mixed with drama, humor and laughter. I obtained the script from Joanne and contacted several school drama departments, all in vain to date. I asked Joanne if there had been any further attempts at stage production in the U.S. but the answer was sadly no. I recently found a YouTube video excerpt of the play. Please enjoy.

Cinematize "Dear Miss Breed" comment:

映画化してほしい、あの実話

クララ・ブリードさんの話を映画化してほしい。。 ブリードさんは南カリフォルニアのサン・ディエゴ市の若い図書館司書 でした。第二次大戦中、強制収容された日系二世、三世の子供たちに、 本をはじめ様々な物を贈り続けました。子供たちは手紙を書きブリード さんは返事を出し続けました。

ＴＢＳドラマ「９９年の愛　Japanese Americans」でも、マンザナの 収容所の子どもたちが描かれていましたね。各地の収容所内で、日系人 たちは、自分たちで学校を作って子供たちに教育を続けさせました。 ブリードさんの本も、きっと、子どもたちをどんなに支えたことでしょう。

ブリードさんは、戦後も、図書館勤務を続け、館長になりました。 戦争中の勇気ある愛の行いについて、ご自分では何にもおっしゃらなか ったそうです。でもお葬式にはたくさんの日系人が参列したとか。

「親愛なるブリードさま」（柏書房）（今村亮・訳）は２００８年に 日本で翻訳が出版されました。原作は“Dear Miss Breed”（ジョアンヌ・ オッペンハイム、2006年）です。

その本は、日本人とアメリカ人にとって、貴重な歴史資料であり、興味 深いドキュメンタリーであり、心温まるドラマがたくさん潜んでいます。 日米合作の映画になりえます。私のイチオシです。

※翻訳本の在庫が断裁処分されるそうです。惜しいです。 あなたの近くの図書館にあるかどうか、確かめてみてください。

Apology to My Japanese Readers

My article “Introducing Henry Fukuhara, the annual pilgrimage artist” (Painted My Way, Riosloggers, Dec 2013) was published in “Gunjo” magazine, a literary coterie magazine in Munakata, Fukuoka. Shortly afterwards, I was bombarded with questions asking me, "Where on earth is Manzanar?"

Among post-war Japanese, I thought “Manzanar” was a very well-known concentration camp for Japanese Americans during World War II. I've come to learn that with the exception of a few people, the majority of Japanese do not know where Manzanar is. None of the maps published in Japan show the name Manzanar in California. I wrote my article with the understanding that Japanese people knew about Manzanar. Wrong! I made a serious mistake. I was very careless not to have shown the geographic location of Manzanar. Here is my answer to those who inquired about its location. “Draw a triangle connecting San Francisco, Los Angeles and Las Vegas, and try to find the center of the triangle. That is roughly where Manzanar is located."

I detailed the route I took in 2008 to Manzanar in my blog in English. I wrote that I rented a car at the Los Angeles International Airport and headed north on 805 and swung east a bit to Route 14 toward Mojave. I stopped at Ridgecrest, population 50,000, where the Naval Air Weapon Center employs many people. I refueled and rested, then took Route 395 North to Lone Pine. It's a well known state highway that Americans take to go to the Mammoth Lake Ski Resort. Manzanar is located just before reaching Lone Pine. There’s nothing in Manzanar but the old high school auditorium that was turned into a memorial hall and a mess hall constructed a few years ago.

There’s no public transportation to go to Manzanar. The U.S. Government picked the site because of its remote location. They transported the evacuated Japanese-Americans by bus to live in the shabby barracks constructed in a hurry. The easiest way to visit Manzanar is to join the annual Fukuhara pilgrimage tour in the spring. Otherwise, you can ask a Japanese tourist agency to organize a special group caravan, but I would advise not during summer. If you think you can drive yourself and manage the language barrier, you can follow the way I traveled from LA. The total mileage is 500 kilometers. You could start either from San Francisco or Las Vegas, but you have to be careful where to refuel. You may be driving close to the Death Valley and there are no gas stations nearby.

A few days ago, I read a Los Angeles Times article entitled “Backtrack to a sad past for former internees” wherein a group of elderly Japanese Americans recalled the time 72 years ago when they lived in horse stalls at Santa Anita Park in Arcadia, California. Two photos were shown - one with the reunion team taking a tram tour, circling the track with cameras; the other, an old photo of two men stuffing hay into bags. I found a familiar name George “Horse” Yoshinaga, who was my favorite Rafu-Shimpo columnist. I see now why he used the strange “Horse” nickname. He wrote in the article, “I got my name here. They say it’s because I smelled like a horse.”

Ground Zero on Dear Miss Breed

My friend in the Tokyo suburbs brought me unexpected news. A small fire flickered in his town to read Dear Miss Breed, the story of a humane San Diego librarian who kept sending books and miscellaneous items to the Japanese American children in the concentration camps in America during World War II. I was told that a group of women who were intrigued by the story started the project.

I have no idea how it developed, but my friend probably made some reference to the book in his club talk or by some unexplained circumstances. They decided to read the book in English. They searched for Joanne Oppenheim's book published by Scholastic New York. They found only one copy at the National Diet Library in Tokyo. The inconvenience was that the city library had to serve as an intermediary and the book could not leave the city library. It had to be read at the library premises under supervision of a city librarian or staff member. Lately, there have been reports of book vandalism in libraries of Anne Frank's Diary for some reason. And then there was the National Diet Library lender time limit. So my friend reported that regretfully the book had to be returned without reading all of it.

I am keeping a few copies of the Japanese translation myself but gave away all of my English books to friends who helped me with the translation, and to the Marine Corps Air Station Iwakuni librarian who called me with her interest in obtaining a copy. I'm getting another copy myself, but not right away.

I looked through my old files and found a statement I made back in 2006, the year Joanne published Dear Miss Breed from Scholastic. Yes, my motivation was for the benefit of young Japanese readers who were unable to read it in English. I'm glad that I went back to ground zero of my Dear Miss Breed project. Thank you, ladies and my friend, who relit a fire again that originally inspired this project.

To whom it may concern,

This letter is to announce that I am now determined to translate Joanne Oppenhiem's "Dear Miss Breed" into Japanese for young readers to know the powerful story of Miss Breed. I look forward to the day when Japanese boys and girls acquire English language skills and can fully appreciate the author's original context.

I want Japanese readers to know, while they are as young as Miss Breed's children, that there was a remarkable librarian, Miss Breed, who loved the young disciplined Japanese Americans and gave them strength and inspiration while they were confined and isolated in the remote concentration camp during World War II. Access to the collections of touching letter writing by Miss Breed children will surely move the hearts of young Japanese readers.

Soon after "Dear Miss Breed" was published in April 2006, I expressed to both author and publisher, my desire to translate this most important book into Japanese. The publisher replied in June stating that I had to go through the Japanese book underwriter/publisher. I had a number of publishing houses in mind, but I realized that they would immediately ask for the manuscript, which I didn't have. I knew translation without a publisher's endorsement was risky, but I felt such a strong commitment to those whose letters I wished to translate. There is a Japanese saying "Knowing what is right without participating in it betrays one's cowardice". I am aware that there is a risk of losing some things in the translation.

I simply desire that the late Miss Breed receive recognition in Japan, as well as authors of letters who are still alive. I spoke with Clara Breed in the late 1980s, in the last stage of her life, when she was working as a substitute secretary for the San Diego Japanese Friendship Garden where I served as a Board member along with Joe and Elizabeth Yamada. Therefore, I can attest to the modesty and sincerity of Miss Breed. I met Ben Segawa and the late Tetsu Hirasaki through my membership in the Japanese American Historical Society of San Diego.

Translating and publishing "Dear Miss Breed" is my thank-you to the Japanese American community who supported the Japanese Friendship Garden and other projects I worked on intimately, including Minato Gakuen, a Saturday School for the Japanese expatriate children in the San Diego area.

Fortunately I have found a working partner who has greatly enhanced the attached sample translation through Page 16. I wish to complete the translation by the end of this year.

Your opinions or comments on my ambitious self-declaring venture will be greatly appreciated.

Respectfully,

Rio Imamura

I wrote this in 2006, nearly eight years ago. How times flies! My objective was to alert the author, Joanne Oppenheim, and her publisher, Scholastic. I knew they wouldn't be persuaded unless guaranteed by a Japanese underwriter/publisher. I did all the promotion myself, sending a sample translation and the introduction of Dear Miss Breed which appeared in San Diego Magazine, and got a hit with one medium-sized publisher, a very cooperative 'Kashiwa'.

Encounter at River Elbe

On April 25, 1945, the Soviet Army advanced from the east and the American Army advanced from the west and met at the River Elbe; with only Berlin remaining for the siege and attack with fusillade. Both Americans and Russians did not know how to greet each other. One word “tovarishch” (comrade or friend) uttered by an American soldier’s slip of the tongue, broke the embarrassment.

They cheered, hugged, toasted in celebration and pledged that youths should never ever confront in war. The Elbe Day was recorded in history, but the pledge was fleeting and quickly vanished as the Cold War soon followed.

A few months prior to the Elbe Day, the city of Dresden, known as Florence of the Elbe, 100 km upstream, had fallen into utter ruin engulfed in an inferno from the Allied force’s heaviest air raids that lasted for two days. There was fire everywhere and everything was on fire! Hot winds from the firestorm killed people as they fled into underground bomb shelters. It is not clear how many perished because the population had not been recorded. An estimated 25,000 to 200,000 people lost their lives.

Amongst the survivors, there was a POW American witness, Kurt Vonnegut (1922-2007). He was detained underground in the now well known “Slaughterhouse Five” that withstood the heat. American POWs, including Kurt, were mobilized for mass burial.

“Our leaders had carte blanche as to what they might not destroy. Their mission was to win the war as quickly as possible, and while they were admirably trained to do just that, their decision as to the fate of certain priceless World heirlooms - in one case Dresden - were not always judicious. When, late in the war, with the Wehrmacht breaking up on all fronts, our planes were sent to destroy this last major city.

I doubt if the question was asked, ‘How will this tragedy benefit us, and how will this benefit compare with the ill-effect in the long run?’ Dresden, a beautiful city, built in the art spirit, symbol of an admirable heritage, so anti-Nazi that Hitler visited it but twice during his whole reign, (and food and a hospital center so bitterly needed) but the city was plowed under and salt strewn in the furrows.”

Kurt wrote this in his Armageddon in Retrospect in 2008, a posthumous book. I have followed him as one of my favorite contemporary writers, and because my first German friend, a young Bosch engineer I befriended, had the same name Kurt. I almost cried when he added “I stand convinced that the brand of justice in which we dealt a wholesale bombing of a civilian population, was blasphemous,” also referring to Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

As to the Russians who discovered that Kurt was an American, he wrote that they embraced Americans, congratulated them on the complete desolation of Dresden, Americans accepted it with good grace and modesty. However, Kurt wrote that he felt he would have given his life to save Dresden. Well said, Kurt!

In 2005, I traveled from Berlin to Prague by express train. Dresden was the first stop. I hurriedly took a picture of the station. The train crossed the Elbe and I saw the city recovering with great effort and sacrifice. Sheer consolation! The city Meissen, nearby, across the Elbe had escaped the bombing. Meissen is the home of the world famous white porcelain manufacturing.

As I approached the German-Czech border along the Elbe, my eyes were fixed on the breathtaking riverside sceneries. The spectacular hills running along across the meandering Elbe River was so awesome and beckoning, I forgot to take photos.

I noted one of the station names: “Bad Shandau.” Later a Google search found that Bad Shandau (bad is spa in German) was the location for the Romantic Saxon Switzerland National Park Center. It is surrounded by the Elbe sandstone highlands, reportedly the source of the Dresden cathedrals and maybe the Meissen porcelain.

Pardubice is a medium-sized Czech town where I spent about a week, with the help of my friend George (introduced in Riosloggers as the silver iron man). The Elbe River comes down from Hradec Kralove (Queen's Town) and runs through Pardubice. Entering the city of Pardubice, a smaller river Chrudimka flows into the streams of the Elbe. I remember seeing a sightseeing boat. I would like to return to the Elbe River someday and visit Saxon Switzerland and Bohemian Switzerland.

Top photo courtesy of DTM Valerie Wagnerova who is currently VP of Public Realtions for the "Pardubice Enthusiasts" Toastmasters Club.