A True Love Story in time for Valentine's Day

Susie Black shares the story of her maternal Great-grandparents

The Love Story of Susie Black’s Great-Grandparents

I first learned about how my maternal great-grandparents got together and their interesting love story as a young woman just out of college while helping my nana prepare for the Jewish New Year celebration. The story Nana told was so riveting that I remember it as clearly as if it were yesterday. We’d been chatting and working in the kitchen when Nana asked me to polish a gorgeous set of candlesticks on the counter. I opened the bottle of polish she handed me and lifted one of the candlesticks. “Nana, how old are the candlesticks?” I fingered the intricately beveled brass. “I’ve never seen anything like these before. They must be antiques.”

Nana nodded. “They are antiques. They are over one hundred years old. My grandparents gave them to my parents as a wedding gift. They were the only personal things my mother could take with her when she left Warsaw.”

I looked at her, puzzled. “They’re not very big. She must have had quite a small suitcase.”

Nana gazed at the candlesticks, and the memory brought a wistful twist to her lips. “A beautiful young woman, my mother.” Nana waved her hands in the shape of a woman’s physique. “Mama was a buxom beauty with raven hair, an hourglass figure, like a Jewish Sophia Loren, and crazy in love with a handsome man. She wanted to marry for love and fought her parents against an arranged marriage. They finally relented, but Mama was devastated after being jilted at the altar. No one ever discovered the fate of the missing groom. Had he run away with another woman or been killed in a pogrom? He disappeared into thin air. In those days, women were not educated and held few jobs outside of the home. So, to be supported, a young girl had to marry. My father is the man Mama’s parents arranged the rejected marriage with. He was a tailor. His profession made him a desirable catch. After Mama was left at the altar, the community considered her damaged goods. But my mother was so beautiful that even after she had rejected the arrangement, my father still agreed to marry her. They met for the first time on their wedding day. Papa gazed lovingly into Mama’s violet eyes as the Rabbi pronounced them man and wife. And right then, Mama fell head over heels in love with the stranger she had just wed.”

Nana pursed her lips. “Once they married, things became even worse than ever for Polish Jews. My parents wanted to start a family, but neither wished to bring children into such a hateful, dangerous place. After one of the bloodier pogroms that killed many people they knew, my parents decided to leave Poland via the Jewish underground. This was a network of brave souls throughout Eastern Europe who helped Jews escape. My father went first. He made his way north to Birmingham, England, and took a job sewing the coal miners’ uniforms.”

Nana dipped her head. “Mama understood it was too dangerous for them to leave together. But once he left, panic set in. She had no idea if he’d make it all the way to England, or not. She feared he would be killed or captured and imprisoned during his treacherous journey, and she’d never see him again. After almost a year had gone by without a word from Papa, Mama was convinced he was dead. She became despondent, sick in both body and soul, and almost died of a broken heart. Then she finally received a message from him. But letters took months to arrive, if at all, and were few and far between. Papa saved his money, and after two years, he sent for my mother. She received word from the underground and had to be ready to leave quickly. Imagine saying goodbye to your parents, siblings, and friends, realizing you might never see them again?”

My heart clenched as I shook my head.

“Anyway,” Nana continued, “A man came to their shtetl at midnight on a moonless night. My mother could only take one small knapsack with some clothes, a family photo, and the candlesticks. She bid her family goodbye, and the man took her to the narrowest part of the wide Warsaw River, infamous for its dangerously strong currents. If you weren’t familiar with the way they ran, you’d be pulled under by the current and drown. My mother climbed on the man’s back, and he swam her across. On the other side, he handed her to the next underground person. She slept in forests and caves during the day and traveled either by horseback or on foot at night. Fighting off wild animals and the elements and hiding from the law took her over two months to travel this way across Europe. She arrived at Calais and boarded a freighter to England. With little money, clothes, or the ability to speak English, she managed to travel to London, then north to Birmingham, and finally reunited with my father.”

I applauded like I would at the end of a play. “Oh, Nana, what a love story. It could be a movie or a play.”

Nana smiled. “Yes, it has all the drama of a film or a play. They defied the odds, and their love sustained them through the darkest days. The unbreakable bond of love my parents had for one another turned the seemingly impossible into a reality.”

I pointed to the candlesticks. “Nana, when I get married, I want those candlesticks to be your wedding gift.”

Nana patted me on the cheek. “Consider them yours.”