You may
remember a post I did about our friend Hank Ombach when he died last
summer. Ken spoke, and I led the music
at his funeral. He lived in our
neighborhood and was in our congregation at church. He and his wife, Ginny retired in St.
George. He was a fine man. I always felt that I was in the presence of
greatness when around him.
A few
months before his death, he gave us a copy of his autobiography. We had both read it a few years ago when he
loaned us a copy. I just finished
reading it again. It honestly is one of
my favorite books. I usually review books I read on goodreads.com. I then copy those reviews on my blog. This book is not on goodreads.com. But if it were, I would give it a 5-star rating. I rarely give a book 5 stars. In order for me to give a book 5 stars, it has to be very engaging. I want to keep returning to it and read it. And it has to be life-changing. I have to want to be different after I read it. This book is both to me.
Hendrick, or Hank, as we knew him, was born and raised in Amsterdam, Holland. He was a young boy at the time of the Nazi occupation of his homeland during WWII. During those horrendously difficult years, his family harbored a Jewish family – the Moscoviters - in their home for over three years, protecting them from certain death.
Hendrick, or Hank, as we knew him, was born and raised in Amsterdam, Holland. He was a young boy at the time of the Nazi occupation of his homeland during WWII. During those horrendously difficult years, his family harbored a Jewish family – the Moscoviters - in their home for over three years, protecting them from certain death.
His
description of the daily struggle to find food and fuel to sustain life during
that time is heart-wrenching. As the
oldest child in the family, it fell to him to try to find food and fuel to feed
and warm his family of six as well as their three guests.
Hank only
barely survived the Nazi occupation. A
few weeks before the end of the war, he fell down the stairs because of
weakness and starvation. For the last
few weeks, he was confined to their couch and was very close to death. His mother nursed him as best she could. The Americans came to Holland just in time
for Hank, ending the war. Gradually, he
recovered his health and went on to live a full and happy life.
His father
had admonished him to never speak of the war time or what they had done. And you can see why. There was a lot of fear associated with that
time. He obeyed his father and didn’t
speak of it. At least not much. Not even to his wife. In 1980, Hank received a letter from Israel,
inviting he and his wife to come to Israel to honor his parents for what they had
done for the Jews during the war. They did
go and it was at that time that Hank started telling his amazing story. Articles were written about him and a friend,
David R. Greene offered to help him write his story in an autobiography. It truly is a story worth telling and worth
reading. I honor the Ombachs and all of
the others who put their own lives at risk to help and save strangers.
The book
makes me wonder what I would have done in similar circumstances. Would I have had the courage to put my family
at risk? I would like to say yes, but I
really don’t know.
A few
months before Hank’s death, I ran into him in the hall at church. We chatted for a few minutes and I was able
to tell him how much I admired him and honored him for his courageous actions. I told him he was one of my heroes. He humbly argued that he was no hero. But I am grateful I had the chance to tell
him.
I
treasure this book. I am grateful to
have known a true hero in my lifetime.
Rest in peace, dear Hank!
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