When Dad Turned 36

On February 20, 1939, New York City’s Madison Square Garden wasn’t filled with hockey fans or boxing enthusiasts but with members of the German-American Bund – more than 20 thousand of them who gathered to support the Nazi cause. Safely in neutral Belgium, my Jewish father celebrated his 36th birthday while Nazi sympathizers railed against the Jews more than 3600 miles away. To this day, I wonder if he would have been shocked by such sentiments infiltrating the land across the Atlantic – the place he hoped would one day offer refuge.

It's Official!

In The Wake of Madness: My Family’s Escape from the Nazis is now on sale everywhere! Ebooks on Amazon.com. Paperbacks can be ordered at your favorite brick and mortar or online bookseller. Special thanks to my advance readers!

In the Wake of MadnessBettie DennyJanuary 31, 2024In the Wake of Madness, Holocaust bookComment

Holocaust Remembrance

When I was growing up, I thought of my parents as the lucky ones. So many had perished during the Holocaust that I did not associate that term with them. After all, they had never been carted off to a labor camp or death camp. They were hunted, but they were not caught. Did that count? Clearly, the upending of their lives was traumatic but not equivalent to the tragedy of whole families and whole communities – be they Jews, Romi and Sinti, Jehovah’s Witnesses, LGBTQ, disabled, political enemies like German Communists, Socialists, and Social Democrats, or members of the Resistance – exterminated systematically. That’s a long list of “others,” isn’t it? When one group is persecuted in a Fascist regime, they are usually not alone for long.

1938

Bettie DennyNovember 2, 2023In the Wake of Madness, Kristallnacht Comments

Impossible Without Hope

Henk Pander’s haunting childhood memories of the Nazis on Dutch soil were the source of a compelling series of paintings that draw you in with their artistry and, then, the recognition of their fiery history. They were painted toward the end of Pander’s life, intended as much to highlight present-day concerns as document the past.

My Father

Robert, the name my father adopted when he came to America, never lost his European formality. Typical dress was a pressed white shirt with cufflinks, a somber suit, Florsheim wingtips, and a homburg hat. His hair was slicked down with Eau de Pinaud, a Portuguese hair tonic, and an unlit cigarette dangled from his mouth. His outfit reflected his demeanor: he was a serious man – which is why it was so wonderful to see him relax or laugh. Seeing photos of his younger days, you can already see his sense of purpose. My mother was a light spirit by comparison, and that optimism may have buoyed him more than he realized. When she persuaded him to wear casual shirts or branch out into pale blue, it was a banner day.

Bettie DennyFebruary 16, 2023Robert Lennett, Sali Levi, Father, In the Wake of Madness Comments

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