Tag Archives: Holland

Holland’s Football Heroes, the Agony of Victory, and the Whining about Diving

Arjen+Robben+IEven though this is a post to address the heroics of the Dutch National Soccer team earlier against Mexico, I want to start with a rant.  I am sick and tired of my fellow Americans bitching and moaning about players diving in the World Cup.  Seen an NBA game lately? Half the fouls take place when the offensive player moves into the opponent.  And flopping is a term coined for actions committed in the NBA.    How many players can even get off the ground without putting their hands out?  And don’t even get me started on how many superstars get away with travelling.  So enough already. You like that sport.  Teams win and lose and everyone has the option to use the rules to their advantage.  I’ve seen my teams lose often enough that I feel it was fair to see it go my teams way for once.  Especially when talking about The Netherlands in World Cup play.

The great thing about being a sports fan is that it allows you to put all your emotions and hopes out there without the fear of devastating consequences.  Everyone can pretty much say that when they follow a sports team they will see their team win or lose.  What you don’t know is when you will have that moment.  That moment when all seems lost, and quietly you know it is all over for your team, even if you tell yourself there is still hope.  That moment is complete when against all odds your team comes back from the dead with a performance of historic proportions.  I experienced it as a New York Met fan in 1986, as  a Philadelphia Flyer fan when a few years back when they came back from 3-0 down in a series against the Boston Bruins, and then from 3-0 down in game 7 , and I experienced it in this World Cup with Holland’s miraculous comeback against Mexico.  At the 85th minute of the game it felt like all was lost.  I already knew that I would have no more Dutch team to follow in this 2014 FIFA World Cup.  And then, Wesley Sneijder scores in the 88th minute tying a game that seemed lost,  and  4  minutes later Arjen Robben makes something from nothing and draws a penalty shot, comfortably put away by Klaas-Jan Huntelaar.

Yes I know this is just a game, and I know that these Dutch heroes don’t come anywhere near to matching the Dutch heroes I speak of in the book Jew Face: A story of Love and Heroism in Nazi occupied Holland, but on this day these Dutchmen gave me, many close to me, and millions of other people moments of pure joy only that moment of joy in sports can bring.

Now win it for my mother!   Pass this around…Let’s start a campaign….CLICK HERE..Come on Holland win it for my mother.


Attention Netherlands Soccer Players:Win it for my Mother

9781468573909_COVER.inddLieve Nederland..Dear Dutch Soccer Team,

My mother is 92 years old, born and raised in Amsterdam, and a soccer (she only calls it football) fan.

She has expressed a strong desire to see you win the World Cup.  God willing she has many more World Cups left, but she is 92 and the window for this team is questionable.  Find something extra guys and win it for her!

Go Holland!


Does the World Cup Unite us?

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Quick answer; it could.  If only the politicians and power mongers would let it.  In a world filled with violence and hatred, I am one of those who truly believes that the majority of the people watching care more about their country scoring a goal than any territorial conflict or prejudice against people.  Despite my belief that FIFA may very well be corrupt, a belief somewhat influenced by The Netherlands’ inability to break through and win it all, I truly believe this tournament, FIFA World Cup 2014 in Brasil, can do a lot more good than harm.  In fact, I don’t even think it is close.  I am not naive.  As a Jew and as an American, I know there are people who hate us.  But wouldn’t it be great if all the battles and anger could be left on a soccer pitch?  I know my prejudices towards countries like Holland, America and England are based on personal experiences that make me root in favor of their success, just as my prejudices against Iran, Algeria and France are also based on my experiences or perceptions.  However, wouldn’t it be great if it stopped there for everyone.  I wouldn’t gloat over the death of Iranians, but I certainly gloated over their defeat in a World Cup match.  When I say I hate Cristiano Ronaldo and I hate Portugal, it is because he strikes me as arrogant and I see Portugal as a villain in international soccer tournaments, not because I hate the country or people.  On the contrary, I have Portuguese blood.  My mother’s maiden name is Rodrigues-Lopes, a Portuguese name.  And my hatred for Ronaldo wants me to see him fail in football, excuse me, soccer, not fail in life.  And yes, as a Jewish man and Zionist I would much prefer Palestinians dancing in the streets because Israel didn’t qualify or because the U.S. got eliminated, not because of a successful terrorist attack that killed Jews.

The good news, I believe the majority of the planet would agree with this sentiment.  They just need to fight to create governments that feel the same way.  It may be a pipe dream, but to quote my favorite line from the movie Flashdance, “when you lose your dreams, you die.”

 


Attention World: Jewish Life has Value

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Let me start by saying that I believe in the value of all human life.  I do not sit down with the intent of portraying Jewish life as being more valuable than other life, rather to defame those who do not, never have nor ever will see Jewish life as being equal in value.

I am blessed to have visiting in my home the daughter and son-in-law of Bertus and Geeske te-Kiefte, the couple that saved my mother’s life in Holland during Nazi occupation.  During the time we have spent together we have had conversations revealing our similarity in values and our respect for all that is decent and good in the world.  We recognize the value of all human life and speak with tremendous honor and respect for those who put their lives in danger to protect others.  We share a common value for human life.  As a Jew in today’s world it has become strikingly apparent that many people out there do not share the same value for Jewish life and even more worrisome is that it has become clear to me how the world allowed the Nazis to do what they did to the Jewish people.  It just didn’t care.  Or even worse, it approved.

I do not have a persecution complex by any means.  In fact I make the argument that there is no reason to go after those who do things that appear to be anti-Semitic if they make claim to not be anti-Semitic.  First case in point is Macklemore, who dressed up in a costume during one of his performances that was seen as being a stereotypical caricature of a Jewish man with a big nose.  Whether that was his intent or not, his strong claim that he did not mean it to be a portrayal of someone Jewish and that he was not at all anti-Semitic is enough for me to not see him as the problem.  Second case in point is the Nike commercial with evil clones taking over international soccer with images on their uniform that could be construed as Stars of David.  Nike issued a statement that the image was not intended to resemble a Star of David at all and that they were not trying to draw any connection to Israel or the Jewish people.  The Nike statement was also enough for me to not see them as the problem.

Is it possible that in both situations we are being lied to and that these are two instances where high-profile celebrities or corporations are subtly trying to demonize Israel and the Jewish people? Sure.  But sadly in a world where there are so many blatant, callous, disgraceful and violent attacks on Jews, the subtle attacks are not our problem.  The rise in anti-Semitic attacks in Europe, most notably in France, is our problem.   The BDS movement’s attempt to cripple the Israeli economy by spewing lies about Israel’s human rights record is our problem.  And the kidnapping of three young boys just because they are Jewish and living in Israel is our problem.

The kidnappings are telling in so many ways.  First of all it identifies the insincerity of the pigs committing the act.  They are not freedom fighters battling for the well-being of their people who are attacking enemy combatants.  They are cowards filled with hate and evil-looking to harm any Jewish person they come in contact with. The second telling fact is how once again this exposes the fraud that is the United Nations.  When a statement comes from the UN stating that it has no evidence that these boys were kidnapped, they sound no different from the standard anti-Semite denying the Holocaust ever happened. And the third and possibly the most telling fact, is the media campaign throughout the Arab world glorifying the kidnapping.  The three finger salute gaining traction and popularity, even being performed by Palestinian children, incidentally children looking happy not persecuted, might as well be accompanied by a resounding Heil Hitler, because it shows as little respect for Jewish life as the Nazis did when they terrorized Europe.

I am very careful and reluctant to compare anything to Nazi Germany, but when Jewish life is turned into something of no value, the comparison is dangerously justified.  For me to have this forum, a forum established to promote a book telling the story of my parents, survivors of that horror of the Nazis, and to not speak up and speak my mind at this scary time in Jewish history would make me remiss in my responsibility as a Jew and a human being.

Never Again means Never Again will we remain silent when we see anyone in the world act as though Jewish blood is cheap.  Too many people suffered and died in the past and we can’t allow the same to happen in the future. This is no longer the time to be silent.  This is the time to raise our voices and proclaim to the world in the name of all that is decent, Never Again!

 


When A Decision Shows Greatness

dadc1It was in the late 1970’s when we were living in the city of Arnhem, capital of the Dutch province of Gelderland, that my father was thrust into a situation no one would ever envy.  As the Rabbi of Gelderland and 5 other provinces, his duties included visiting and counseling the sick, visiting Jewish inmates in prison, and probably the most common occurrence, the performance of funeral services.  One day he received an urgent call saying that a well-known member of the community had taken a gun to his head and had killed himself.  The man, someone we all knew well, was a good man, but a mentally tortured man.  Whatever suffering he had endured at the hands of his Nazis was unknown to me, but we all knew that whether it was the suffering caused by the murder of his family or personal torture, this man was a victim of the Holocaust and sadly suffered mentally in a way the majority of people, myself included, could never understand.  Under strict Jewish law, someone who commits suicide is not entitled to a proper Jewish burial and is not supposed to be mourned as others would be.  My father, someone who had experienced the Nazi-occupation of Holland first hand, and a man of compassion and wisdom, would have no part of this.  Understanding that this man was not a weak man taking the cowardly way out, but rather a victim of the horrors, my father ruled his death as a death by illness, regardless of whether or not the final action was self-inflicted or not.  By my father making this decree, the man was able to receive the proper burial he deserved, and was mourned and remembered in the days, weeks and months that followed.

I was no older than 17 when this happened.  It would be something I would never forget because this action was a testament to what was great about my father, Rabbi Nardus Groen who passed away 7 years ago today on June 13, 2007.  As a son I always loved him.  As a young man, this decision by my father made me admire him, and stayed we me my entire life.

 


Holland’s Sports Heroes

anedflagDon’t look now but one week into the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia, Holland leads in the overall medal count.  Lead by their usual elite performances in speed skating, the Dutch sit on top of the pack halfway through the games.  Who knows how long it lasts, but for now I’m one of many proud of what the teams from the Netherlands has achieved to this point.  Keep it up and good luck the rest of the way!


Do You Own the Book?

9781468573909_COVER.indd

The original purpose of Holland’s Heroes was to make people aware of the book “Jew Face: A story of love and heroism in Nazi-occupied Holland”.   The website has developed into a place designed to increase Holocaust awareness, address important issues of the day, and show the connection between the past and the present.

If you appreciate my writing, feel a connection to the Jewish people, or both, I urge you to read the book “Jew Face”.  Here is why.  In this book, the story of the experiences of my parents, Nardus and Sipora Groen in Holland between 1940-1945, I make every effort to convey a larger picture than that of what they experienced.  I was always taken by Steven Spielberg’s style in movies about eras in history.  In Amistad he tells the story of one trial as a basis to convey his take on slavery in America.  In Schlinder’s List he tells the story of Oscar Schindler as a basis to tell the story of the Holocaust.  What I attempt to do in the book “Jew Face” is use the story of my parents as a basis to tell the story of the Holocaust, specifically the story of what took place in Holland.

CLICK TO BUY THE BOOK

What sets this book aside from many other Holocaust related stories is the positive and inspirational feeling one gets from reading about the strength and courage of a number of people, starting with my parents.  This book is without question a love story of two people who came together during the worst of times.   I am proud to say that my writing reveals the great love and respect I have for both my parents, my father of blessed memory who passed away on June 13, 2007, and my mother, who at 92 is Thank God, alive well, and someone who still provides love and support to so many, including me.

Are you inspired by courage and decency?  This book is for you.  Are you a romantic?  This book is for you.  Are you into history? This book is for you.  Are you Jewish?  This book is for you.  Are you reading this post? This book is for you.

I want people to know this story, and I can say with complete confidence that those who already have read it have been inspired and moved by the experiences of the people in the book.  If you like my writing style, thank you.  However the greatness of the book is in the people I was so honored to write about and would love to share with all of you.

CLICK TO BUY THE BOOK

 


On Holocaust Remembrance Day: The Lessons of my Parents

00000007As a child I always remember my parents speaking of what took place in Holland during the Nazi occupation.  The term ‘Holocaust’ was rarely if ever used.  Instead they would generally speak of it in terms of “40-45”, representing the years 1940 until 1945 when Nazi Germany occupied the Netherlands.

I always knew I had lost family, specifically the parents and younger sister of my father and the father and younger brother of my mother.  It was not until I was a bit older that the scope was understood to me, very possibly due to my parents shielding me from the reality at my young age.

I always knew of the greatness of the Lubertus and Geeske te Kiefte.  The people known to me from as far back as I can remember as Oom (Uncle) Bertus and Tante (Aunt) Geesje were the people who shielded my parents, specifically my mother, and gave her a welcome home at the risk of certain torture and death.  They would always remain to me as family, as would their children and grandchildren.

I always knew it was Germany.  What history was then and what it became was something I did not begin to comprehend until my teen years.  My first understanding of the contrast that existed was my awareness that Willie Brandt, who was German Chancellor from 1969-1974 was a “good German” who had not been part of the Nazi party.  As an ignorant child it was all just numbers and random information to me.  Of course it was sad.  I never had the experience of knowing my grandparents and knew that the world my parents were born into had been destroyed.  But the true scope was something that was next to impossible for a child to grasp.  Then I grew up and realized it had very little to do with age.

Soon after I finished writing the book “Jew Face” I was thinking about all that had taken place and my perception of the events of 40-45.  As a New Yorker, I know what it means to live in a city with a strong Jewish influence, not unlike Amsterdam prior to 1940.  I closed my eyes and tried to imagine most of my family gone and 75% of the Jews of New York wiped out.  After 10 seconds I opened my eyes because it was too painful to continue.  I had the option of opening my eyes and making it no longer a reality.  This is what makes Holocaust survivors such as my mother and late father and so many others the tremendous heroes that they are.  The very ability to go on with life in the face of such awful memories without the option of opening their eyes and making it go away.  It never did go away, yet they continued to live with the pain, often turning it into new worlds filled with joy and happiness.   We owe a debt of gratitude to all these heroes that we can best repay by always remembering and fighting to make sure it never happens again.  May God bless them all forever.


Generations of Love and Family

generationsAs many of you reading this already know, the 
book Jew Face is the story of my parents 
journeys and survival during the Nazi 
occupation of Holland between 1940-1945.  
There are many reasons this story is 
important.  Some are general for a large 
group of people, while others are more 
pertinent to the individuals in the story.  
The most significant being the impact it has 
on all the family members involved and the 
generations that have followed.

My parents, Nardus and Sipora Groen, started a 
new world with the birth of their first son, 
and my oldest brother Marcel.  He would be 
followed by Leo, Ruben, my one sister Debby, 
and then me.  Between the children my parents 
would get 12 grandchildren, and as it stands now, 
8 great grandchildren.  It should be noted that the 8 great grandchildren 
come from only 3 of the grandchildren, the 3 oldest children of Marcel and 
his wife Bernice, so there is still plenty of opportunity for the remaining 
grandchildren to add to that number.  It is a story of survival in the 
greatest sense.  A world almost destroyed now stands at over 30 people and 
growing, and that is without counting extended family.

The reason for this post today is because some events and family 
members represent the glory and greatness that is the survival of a 
family.  This weekend my nephew Justin and his fiance Kim will be 
married.  Justin, who is the youngest of Marcel and Bernice's children 
is one of those people who is loved and respected by those who know him,
and has the great ability to show that love and respect in return on a 
regular basis.  Nothing symbolizes it more than the relationship he had 
with his "Opa" and still has with his "Oma".  Opa and Oma are the Dutch 
words for grandfather and grandmother and in this case represent my 
parents, Nardus and Sipora Groen.  I still remember when my father had 
his heart attack about 15 years ago on the 7th day of Passover, and 
walking up and finding Justin holding him in his arms in the back of a 
police car right outside Beth Shalom synagogue in Elkins Park, Pa. 
until the ambulance arrived.  Their relationship would always be 
close and even though my father passed away close to 6 years ago, 
Justin still wears the pin he gave him on the lapel of his suit in 
synagogue and intends to use his Opa's Talit (prayer shawl) at his 
upcoming wedding.   His relationship with his Oma may be even more 
special.  This is a relationship of mutual affection and respect rarely 
seen between 2 people separated by 58 years, be it relatives or not.  
They not only love and respect each other but they enjoy each other's
company in a very special way, and as a son and a uncle it always warms 
my heart to see.

As I write this piece, a few days prior to the wedding, the best news 
of all may be that Justin is marrying a woman with the same wonderful 
qualities he possesses and someone with the same values of goodness and 
love for family and friends we wish everyone possessed.

As Kim joins the family this weekend the family grows and the 
significance of what was saved so many years ago becomes even more 
significant and beautiful.  It is said that when you save one person 
you save an entire world.  As I write this I have joy in my heart for 
the world of my parents that was saved, and the world that it has 
become with the generations to follow.

Remembering a Friend

YCThe most important thing to me about the book “Jew Face” has always been the fact that it is about real people and real events.  There are real friendships in the book and friendships that developed amongst the generations that followed those people spoken of in the book.  Sadly, people pass on, and we only hope that the people they leave behind continue their life and legacy.

Today we mourn the loss of Ester Abram.  Ester was the wife of Sam Abram, a childhood friend of my father.  Following this post I will put up the excerpt from the book that speaks of the events that took place between my father, Sam, and Sam’s sister during the Nazi occupation of Holland.  But first we remember Ester Abram, who together with her husband Sam would end up being a lifelong and cherished friend of both my father and mother.  On behalf of my mother and our entire family we express our deepest sympathies on her loss and pray that she rests in peace.

 

 

 

 

Excerpt from Jew Face

Saving Nettie

 As the Germans were to come in on various occasions and raid neighborhoods, the Jewish community in Amsterdam became smaller and more dispersed. Those either not willing to accept the evidence or whose innate courage prevented them from leaving their home would ultimately find themselves shipped off to what we now know would ultimately be their cruel treatment in concentration camps, and in most cases, death.

Throughout 1941, Seys-Innquart, Aus der Funten, and his other henchmen were in the process of determining a location to use as a deportation center for the Jews of Holland. The two most logical places were the Esnoga, the Great Spanish-Portuguese Synagogue, and the Hollandse Schouwburg, the great concert hall of Amsterdam. After reviewing it carefully, the Nazis felt that the Schouwburg was the more logical choice. Because of the large amount of Jewish patronage over the years, the proximity to the Jewish ghetto, and the purpose in which it was now going to be used, the Nazis changed its name to the Joodse Schouwburg and prepared it for use as a deportation center.

The plan had in many ways already been put into action. The concentration camps of Westerbork and Vugt were set up in the north and south, respectively, and beginning in January of 1942, after mass roundups, Jews were no longer allowed to live anywhere in the Netherlands but Amsterdam or the two camps. When arriving in Amsterdam, these people would either live in the homes of others or would reside in public institutions such as schools or hospitals.

The Schouwburg had been set up and was used for Straf Gevaals (“S Cases”) and for whatever group of random Jews the Nazis chose to keep there until deportation.

Meanwhile, the death camps of Auschwitz and Sobibor were close to operating at full capacity. The Germans were taking the process of eliminating the Jewish population of Europe to a new level. Once they reached that stage, in July of 1942, the system in which they handled the Jews of Holland was cut and dry. Homes and institutions were raided, and if not emptied out in full, they were left devastated and in shambles. Most of the people picked up in these raids were brought to Westerbork, where they would stay for a short while, days at most, before being transported to the death camps. Those not sent to Westerbork went through Vugt. The majority of the remaining was first processed in the Schouwburg and then went through the same pattern of Auschwitz or Sobibor via Westerbork.

Even before the mass deportations of July of 1942, the Grune Polizei (“Green Police”), the Nazi police force patrolling Amsterdam, would make regular raids and roundups in Jewish neighborhoods. Many of the Jews who had an understanding of what was taking place went into hiding before they were forced to leave their homes. For many, this was the reason they survived, although, as was the case with everyone who hid, some were more fortunate than others.

The situation in Amsterdam was worsening from week to week. Thousands of people had already been taken from their homes, and it was becoming more and more clear that this was going to get a lot worse before it got better.  Most of the people being seized from their homes at this point were individuals. Families and couples appeared to be spared for a large part, but it was a tenuous situation at best, and the future had a very ominous feel to it.

 One day early in 1942, Nardus was approached by one of his good friends, Sam Abram. Sam lived close to Nardus, and they had attended Yeshiva together, frequented the same gatherings, and knew and liked each other very much. Sam had a younger sister, Nettie, and he was concerned that this young, attractive, single woman would be in danger of being sent to one of the camps. And his fears were justified. Many of the women in the neighborhood had disappeared, and with the incidents of brutality leaking out, no one wanted to spend too much time imagining what this meant. They just knew that is wasn’t good. So Sam asked Nardus if he had a way to help Nettie stay out of the camps and remain in Amsterdam.

There was really only one way Nardus could help her: He had to marry her. In so doing, he would at least be able to delay her capture. So Nardus and Nettie Abram were married in an effort to save her life, and for now it appeared to be working. As a married woman, she was able to remain in Amsterdam long enough to allow her to find a family where she could hide. And once the Nazis started taking everyone away, married or not, Nettie would need that hiding place.

Nardus and Nettie remained married through the entire war. Any resolution to the situation would not be able to take place before the war would end. Nardus knew this but did not care. Marital status meant nothing right now. What mattered was saving as many lives as possible. Right now, he had the chance to save the sister of a good friend, and he would do so. What he did wasn’t much, and it gave no assurances for the future, but it gave her a chance. Nettie would be safe, at least for now.