As I was placing one my personal ads in an Israeli newspaper, I happened to mention to the ad-taker that I intended to emigrate from Israel to the U.S. or Canada sometime in the future.  This is when that individual said, “What don’t you advertise in the Aufbau; it’s a German weekly that is published in New York; the finest Jewish families subscribe to it.  You can kill two birds with one stone:  find a fine young lady that will help you get into either of those countries.”

Needless to say, I got all the particulars from this Good Samaritan; and before long I advertised in the aforementioned paper; twice.  I did get many responses, but the question was, “what now?”  We were separated by vast distances; how can we meet and get to know each other?

Now that I was in Canada, and still looking for the right person, it occurred to me that the time has come to advertise in the Aufbau.

The Aufbau had a satellite office in Montreal; I therefore paid them a visit, solicited their help in writing the ad, and paid for its publication for the next two weeks.

At the time, I was living with the previously mentioned 5 roommates.  And it is there, in the apartment on Park Avenue, that this fishing expedition started.

The paper had given me a P.O. number under which my mail would be kept.  I waited for a week before calling them.  “Yes, we do have mail waiting for you.”  It was not an avalanche to be sure, but my ad had caught the attention of a few young ladies.

I sat at a park and carefully read that first batch of letters; with one exception, there wasn’t much to cheer about.  The one exception was a young lady who lived in West Orange, New Jersey; she had a university education, a well-paying job, and judging by the photo she had included, was attractive.  She also came from a German-Jewish family who had been in the U.S. for many generations.  But there was a small issue, she was 25.  You may remember that the cut-off point for an Egyptian was 22!  Taking into consideration that I was now in another country, I was willing to make concessions:  23 or perhaps even 24, but no more.  That said, this family was a cut above me, and I doubt I would have been accepted.

I received more mail and eventually hit the jackpot.

Her name was Norma Lorraine and she lived in Queens, New York.  She had finished high school, and was presently working for a piano company.  Her parents were Austrians, accordingly, in addition to her native English, she spoke a fluent German.  Her picture showed an attractive redhead, and even more important, it bespoke of good breeding.  Her English was superb and the letter well put together; accordingly, I had little doubt in my mind that the writer enjoyed above average intelligence.

She had seen my ad during the period of the High Holidays, and figured that it could be a good omen.  Therefore, she responded without any delay.

I should add that her parents had also seen the ad, and were on side from the very beginning.

Next, Norma invited me to come to New York to meet her and her family.  And I did just that.  An important first step has been taken; the rest was now a matter of destiny.

The year was 1965.

There had been countless new beginnings during the first 29 years of my life; but Norma’s letter, and our subsequent meeting, opened a new door, and through that door a very special person walked into my life.

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