Nicholas Kristof wrote a moving story about his father, prefaced by a frank admission of the New York Times’s own shoddy history in turning its back on immigrants and refugees in the past.
Yet if fear and obliviousness have led us periodically to target refugees, there’s also another thread that runs through American history. It’s reflected in the welcome received by somebody I deeply admire: Wladyslaw Krzysztofowicz. And this is personal.
Raised in what was then Romania and is now Ukraine, Krzysztofowicz was jailed by the Gestapo for assisting an anti-Nazi spy for the West. His aunt was murdered in Auschwitz for similar spying, but he was freed with a bribe. When World War II was ending, he fled his home as it fell into the hands of the Soviets.
After imprisonment in a Yugoslav concentration camp, he made it to Italy and then France, but he couldn’t get a…
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