Choose Life: Howard’s Story

Deuteronomy 30:19 proclaims “I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing: therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live.” My father has often quoted this one particular passage of the Tanakh (the Hebrew Bible) to me–in his opinion in is the central message of the entirety of Judaism–but I don’t think I was ever able to understand it fully until I came on this trip–and especially before I met Mr. Howard Chandler. The modern translation of the meaning of this passage, in my opinion, can most simply be described as follows: there is always ALWAYS a choice, even in the absolute darkest of situations. And if we choose to cling onto life–even when death would be seemingly preferable–that which we are will live. In the context of Jewry, this means that in clinging to life, we ensure the survival of our people, and our religion, which is, according to Avraham Infeld, the culture of the Jewish people.
Over the past few days, I have seen many examples of people making this deduction to cling to life during the Holocaust. There were those who went to theatre and opera and symphonies in the Ghetto. There were those–Poles and Jews–who rebelled against the Nazi regime. But the most touching and strongest example I have seen of this is in Howard. Howard, who lost most of all his immediate family and friends during the Holocaust. Howard, who was imprisoned in a ghetto in his hometown, and in a labor camp, and in Auschwitz.  And Howard who has the courage to come back to these sites every year. Who has the courage to tell these stories. Who has the courage to choose to cling to even the horrific parts of his life to ensure that they are not forgotten.
Today, we traveled to the small Polish town of  Wierzbnik‐Starachowice, Howard’s hometown, and I remain amazed at the man’s sheer strength. First he told us his story from his childhood to being transported to a labor camp, to Auschwitz, but he told his story to more people than just us, in his group. Apparently, the last time Howard was here, he noticed a memorial in the Market Square for sixteen non-Jewish Poles who were killed there during the War, but, even though countless Jews were transported to Treblinka from the exact same spot, no memorial existed for them there. Howard thought that there should be. After what was apparently a long process in the works, we all witnessed Howard sitting in between the two vice mayors of the town in its Town Hall, telling his story very publicly, in order to ensure the remembrance of his mother, his sister, and thousands of other Jews in Wierzbnik‐Starachowice. Reliving and recalling these memories–walking around his town where terrible things happened to him; going to where his family was killed; walking around Auschwitz where he was a prisoner–surely cannot be easy for him. It must, in fact, be quite difficult–painful and scary even. And yet he does it–clings to a horrific experience that does indeed make up a part of his life–so that others can continue to live on. And the vice mayors agreed to put up at least some sort of plaque in the Market Square.
But it’s more than just this one instance that makes me admire Howard. He chooses to cling to not only the bad memories but to the good experiences as well. The joy with which he seems to hold life, the smile that has been plastered to his face over the past five days that I’ve known him, his continued eagerness to go go go, all remain a constant inspiration to me. Were I to experience an eighth of the things he has, I’m fairly certain that I’d come out of the experience very bitter. And yet he is one of the kindest human beings I have ever had the pleasure to know.
Howard, now I address you directly: Please know how much of an inspiration you have been to me. Of coarse I will keep your story alive. I will tell others, and I swear to you that as long as I live, and as long as anyone who ever knows me ever lives, or anyone who knows the latter, your story and the the stories of countless others will never be forgotten. But on a personal note, you have shown me how to be strong. How to cling to life with all my might. And that no matter how difficult things might get, there is always something worth living for, worth fighting for, worth clinging to. You are such an inspiration to me, and always will be. Thank you.