Sal's Reflections

I once asked Viktor Frankl how he could not hate the Germans for what they did to him and the Jews. Without hesitation, he looked at me with those incredible blue eyes and said” There is no way to understand or explain the horror, but if I hate them there is nothing worthwhile left. They took my family, my profession, my entire way of life, if I hate them what is the meaning of my life? Love of humanity is the foundation Salvatore and when we give that up for any reason we lose the depth of our humanity.”

I have struggled with those words through the years, and have stumbled on petty reasons to dislike and dismiss others, but his words haunt me. In forgiveness there is growth and meaning. Not only in forgiving others, but also forgiving ourselves. Every human life has choices that we would like to have back, but there are few do overs. However, there is the ever present opportunity to let go of some of the pain that we have caused to ourselves or others. I listen to the giant who ever whispers in my ear let it go Salvatore, forgive and grow in wisdom and love.

I know he is right, and even though it comes only inch by inch, I choose to forgive and hope that any harm I have done will be forgiven

In October 1970, while I was a student in Rome my best friend Jack Murphy died in an automobile accident. Devastated by his death I could not fathom how this incredible life force suddenly ceased to exist.

Jack was the whole package when it came to being an extraordinary person. Bright, compassionate and ever the teacher, he had a wide birth of acceptance for all people. His innocent boyish Irish face was the perfect façade for his zany, wonderful sense of humor. Once in the middle of a freezing January day, Jack and I were waiting on line to enter a café in New York that featured opera singers. Tired of the wait Jack left me and entered the building. In a few moments he returned and told me that there was no longer a need to wait, we could now enter. From the gleam in his eyes I knew that the leprechaun had hatched a devious plan that would entail some major acting on my part. I inquired “What have you done?” Nothing really, I merely told the Italian proprietor that you were Dr.Tagliareni, the very famous heart surgeon, visiting from Rome.” As we entered we were greeted by the owner who ushered us to the best table in the house. I speak Italian, but it would be obvious to a native that I was not the real deal. When the owner gushingly greeted me in Italian I responded in broken English “While I am in your country I wish to speak only English.” First hurdle cleared, but surely not the last tense moment in the story.

The next embarrassing moment was when the lead soprano dedicated her Aria to me, and I was introduced, and had to stand and take a bow. I asked Jack “nice going lunatic, what happens if someone has a heart attack?” He never missed a beat, “just jump on him and start pounding his chest.”

I still smile whenever I recall that day, but most of all I feel the gratitude that I had the privilege of knowing him. Thanks Jack, for the memories, and for all that you brought to my life.

The Holocaust became more than a series of unimaginable atrocities that happened long ago when I met Dr.Viktor Frankl in Vienna. As his student, I heard the story of his captivity and others by the Nazis. These firsthand accounts were so incredible, they remain with me to this day.

Their pain was without end, and their words and memories should never be lost.  Their stories enabled me to sense the horror of the atrocities done to the Jewish people, and I realized in order to be a witness it is not necessary to be Jewish.  Imagine the blood of those innocents slaughtered by the beast, and ask yourself “is it not a human obligation to feel the repulsion for what they suffered” ?  Stand in the middle of the terrified children, can you not be overwhelmed at the terror that was resident in those eyes?  Gaze upon the face of your parents and sense the awe and reverence you feel for them, and then see what was done to the elderly Jews.  Savor the harvest of your blessings, and the generations that have lived and will live in your families, and then see the empty fields barren without the sounds of those that were and would have been.  Do you not hear the restless winds that carry their shrieks to the four corners of the earth?  This epic of butchery must be cast into the light so that we can understand the pain that has no time limit.  It is the solemn duty of the living to open the graves that were filled in such a hurry, and pause at the altar of the lives that might have been.  We are the light that has to honor them.  We are the candles that must end the darkness of racism and genocide that was allowed to swallow them.  It is our heritage to answer the anti-Semites and bigots long before they build their gallows.  There will be no shattering of glass and no stars to be worn so that the targets of hatred may be identified.  It is the responsibility of those that believe in the value of every human to shine light on the insidious hatreds that are still resident in those that believe that the Jews are responsible for all of the evils of society.  There must be no more silence when the stereotypes are rolled out.  This is where we will find those that have perished in the struggle to rid our world of the blind hatred that spawned a period of pain that has never before been seen.  It is our mantle to wear the cloaks of brotherhood and sisterhood and to teach the diversity that will shine on the belief that only as children of the light can we save ourselves from the darkness.